


The World Repeats

by BillieShears



Category: Nothing Much to Do
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 17:09:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2356100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BillieShears/pseuds/BillieShears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter the universe, Ben and Bea always manage to find their way to one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Time Travel AU

**Author's Note:**

> I had way too many ideas for NMTD AUs, so I decided to write drabbles for each one and throw them all together. 
> 
> Title is taken from a line in 'Einstein's Dreams' by Alan Lightman - "the world repeats itself, precisely, endlessly."

The time hops started about six months before she moved in with Hero and Leo. The first time, she thought she was just having a very intense, very lucid dream – there she was, sitting in a classroom she didn’t recognize, full of people she didn’t know. It lasted for about five minutes, and then – poof! – she was back in her bedroom in her house in Wellington, like it had never even happened at all. It wasn't until months later, when she started attending Messina High, that she remembered the first time hop and recognized it as her current English class.

After the first few times, she started to get the hang of it. It worked like this: the time hops only ever went forward. She never went back in time. They only ever lasted a few minutes, and it usually only happened two or three times a month. There weren’t two Beatrice’s running around when it happened – it was like she literally took over Future Beatrice’s life, for those few minutes. She had no knowledge of what was happening during the time hops – despite inhabiting Future Beatrice’s body, she still had Present Beatrice’s mind. Everything was new to her. Present Beatrice’s body, however, was left behind. That was the most obnoxious part – whenever it happened, Present Beatrice’s physical body fainted, remaining unconscious for the duration of the time hop. And as far as she could tell, there was no rhyme or reason to it – she had no control over when it happened, where she wound up, or why.

For a long time, Hero was the only one who knew about it. Together, they came up with a cover story to explain her random bouts of fainting. They told everyone she was iron deficient, and if she didn’t remember to take supplements, sometimes she would pass out. It kept their friends, classmates, teachers, and Leo from worrying too much, and stopped them from asking too many questions.

She’d started keeping a journal after the fourth or fifth time, just to keep track of what she’d learned. Sometimes the information clashed – the future, Bea learned, constantly changed. When she lived in Wellington, she time hopped to a future where she was in the process of graduating from a high school in Australia. But after moving to Auckland, she’d time hopped to a future where she and Meg were in the middle of taking selfies in their caps and gowns, before the ceremony. In one future, she was working as a paralegal; in another, she wasn’t sure what her job was, but she was working in some kind of government office. In another, she was attending grad school in England, somewhere by the ocean.

She could feel it coming on, usually. The edges of her vision would get fuzzy then go dark, and she’d get overcome with dizzy spells. She could feel it happening one particular afternoon, when she was in the middle of trying to convince Ben to get out of her bathtub (he was such a _freak_ ) and come downstairs to join the rest of their friends for pizza.

“If you don’t want to eat, you don’t have to.” She reached for the doorknob and was greeted with a rush of dizziness.

“Are you okay?” Ben asked from the tub, “You’ve gone all pale.”

“I think I’m gonna –” was all she could get out before her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed on the floor.

When she opened her eyes, she was lying in a bed. She immediately reached out to the bedside table in search of a calendar. If there’s one thing that Present Beatrice had learned, it was that Future Beatrice kept calendars on hand _everywhere_ – clearly, Future Bea was anticipating the time hops. She very rarely wound up in a future where there wasn’t a calendar within a few feet of her. Sure enough, there was one lying on the bedside table, telling her the year was 2022.

“Breakfast is ready!” Someone called from down the hall. Bea snapped to attention. She knew that voice. She’d know that voice _anywhere_.

When the bedroom door opened and Benedick strolled in, she was rooted to the spot, frozen. He was older, of course, and he’d grown into himself more. It was almost startling, how handsome he’d gotten (and she hated herself for noticing), but he was still unmistakably Ben. When he bent down and kissed her, she screamed and shoved him away. He jumped back, surprised.

“What’s the matter? Are you alright?”

“Why are you kissing me?!” She demanded, “And _why_ are you in my house?!”

“First of all, it’s an apartment, and it’s _ours_ ,” He stated, staring at her like she had three heads, “and I’m kissing you because you’re my fiancée, and I’ve kissed you practically every day for the past eight years. Are you feeling alright?” He reached out and pressed a hand to her forehead, checking her temperature.

“ _Fiancée?_ ” She pulled away, horrified.

“Oh my God,” He marveled, understanding dawning on him, “Bea? I mean – _Past_ Bea? Is this the first time you’ve ever time hopped to you and I as a couple?”

“How do you know about the time hops?” She asked, getting more and more worked up, “And, I’m sorry, but I’m still stuck on this – we’re a _couple?_ ”

“You told me about them. I think it was right after Hero’s birthday, after she –” He paused, clucking his tongue. “After she opened her presents.”

Beatrice narrowed her eyes, suspicious.

“That’s not what you were going to say,” She accused. “After she _what?_ ”

“Nononono,” He shook his head, “If there’s one thing you drilled into my head after telling me, it’s that you don’t mess with the past. Apparently, you haven’t had good luck with that. You _specifically told me_ if you ever time hopped with me, I’m not allowed to tell you anything you don’t already know. So forget I said anything.”

“Well, you’ve just told me we’re apparently a couple, and I _certainly_ didn’t already know that,” She crossed her arms, leaning back against the headboard.

“That’s different,” He insisted, “it’s one thing to spoil yourself for the future, but you can’t run around changing the past. Things get… messy. That’s what you tell me, anyway. I wouldn’t know.”

She wanted to press him further about Hero, but thought better of it.

“So I’m still time hopping?” She asked, instead.

“A little less now than you used to, but yeah.” He sat on the edge of the bed, leaving a wide berth between them. “The other day you passed out in the middle of the supermarket. You knocked over an entire display of grapefruits. It was terribly embarrassing for you when you came to.”

“Awesome,” she sighed, sinking further onto the bed. “Do I have any idea what’s causing them yet?”

“Nope,” He said, entirely too merry about it, “No idea. And you absolutely refuse to speak to someone about it – you’re convinced you’ll wind up some kind of government experiment. Or, at the very least, wind up with a crappy reality television show, and you say you’d rather die than become ‘reality tv trash’.”

“That’s true, I would,” She affirmed. Ben laughed.

“So what’s going on with Past Ben right now?” He asked, “What’s the timeline?” Bea rolled her eyes.

“I never have _any_ idea what’s going on with you,” She complained. “You were being a real weirdo about pizza just now, though. You were filming a vlog and you wouldn’t get out of my bath.”

“Ah,” Ben looked away, smiling, “ _That_ day. I guess that _was_ pretty weird of me, hanging out in people’s bathrooms all the time.”

“Completely,” She agreed. She rubbed at her temples – the dizziness was coming back. “I think I’ve only got a few more seconds before I go back. Any parting words of future wisdom?”

“Just – go easy on Past Ben,” He said, shaking his head fondly, “Poor kid, he’s –”

She was gone before she could hear the rest.

“Bea? Bea, are you alright?” Her eyes fluttered open. She was back in the bathroom, lying with her head in Ben’s lap. He was bent over her, eyes wide and frantic, pressing a cool cloth to her forehead. She let out a yelp and scrambled to her feet, practically flying across the room.

“Hey, hey, take it easy,” He cautioned, standing up, “I really think you should lie down for a while – you hit your head pretty hard on the floor.”

He started towards her, but she backed up even further, until she was pressed flat against the wall. He stopped, frowning at her.

“What’s gotten into you? You’re acting like you’ve seen a ghost or something.”

“I feel like I _have_ ,” She admitted. “Can you - I need to talk to Hero. Can you get her for me?”

“Yeah, of course.” He gave her one last once-over, concern evident on his face, before disappearing down the hall.

-

 _Futures change all the time._ That’s what Bea kept telling herself. She consulted her journal for reference, noting every single time a future had changed from what it had been before. That was the nature of life – even with the time hops, nothing was a guarantee.

But as the weeks went on, as the time hops kept happening, Bea couldn’t help but notice - in every future, no matter the place, no matter the job, no matter the time, no matter what else had changed… she and Benedick were together in every single one.


	2. Time Travel AU (part 2!)

Something Bea had picked up on was that the time hops were always more likely to happen when she was under extreme stress - so _of course_ it happened the night of Hero’s birthday party. Immediately after Claudio stormed off, she ushered Hero into the next room, sitting her down on the couch and crouching down in front of her, trying to get her to take deep breaths and calm down. She could hear shouting in the other room, as Leo and – was that _Ben?_ – herded the party guests out. She heard a door slam, then the sounds of Leo moving around in the kitchen.

“She should drink something,” He said, and Beatrice froze, because it wasn’t Leo after all - it was Benedick who pressed the glass of water into Hero’s hands. “Nice and slow, Hero. Baby sips.”

She took it from him and gulped it down between sobs and gasps for air, clutching the arm of the couch to keep upright.

“Where’s Leo?” She choked out.

“He, uh,” Ben winced, looking between Hero and Bea, “he left.”

“He _what?_ ” Beatrice roared, rising to her feet. “After that scene, he _left?_ He better be out there somewhere tearing Claudio to pieces, otherwise -” She froze, realization dawning on her. She turned on Ben, pushing her finger against his chest. “You! You _knew_ about this!”

Ben’s eyes widened and he held up his hands, taking a step back from her.

“No, I didn’t! Well, I mean, I knew what Claudio _thought_ , but I had no idea he was going to –”

Beatrice shook her head vehemently.

“No, no, not _present_ you, _future_ you! You could’ve warned me, we could’ve _stopped_ this!”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Beatrice,” Hero wheezed, “calm down before you –”

Her warning came too late, and Ben barely had time to react before reaching out and catching her, her head narrowing missing the corner of the table.

-

When she came to, she was slumped between a door frame and Hero, who had her arms wrapped around her and was struggling to keep them both upright.

“What year?” Bea asked automatically, stumbling a little before finding her footing.

“2024,” Hero replied, “where are you coming from?”

“Your sweet sixteen.”

“Oh, shit.” Hero winced, and immediately went to the kitchen, setting to work. Bea glanced around, taking in her surroundings. She’d time hopped to this place a few times before – it was Hero’s apartment. Or at least, Hero’s apartment in some of the futures that Bea had been to.

She wandered into the kitchen, looking at the pictures Hero had taped up to the fridge. Some were familiar to her, some weren’t – loads of the two of them over the years, a couple candids of Meg and Ursula. A group photo that included Balthazar, Pedro, and John that looked like it was taken sometime around Christmas, based on the outfits. Quite a few of a man she'd never seen before, but who looked awfully cozy with Hero in the pictures. She brushed her fingers across a picture of herself and Ben, decked out in their graduation robes. He had her dipped into a kiss, and she was holding her cap up over their faces, blocking them from view. She turned away, slumping down at the kitchen table. Hero placed a platter of cookies in the center, then passed her a drink.

“Vodka tonic,” She said, dropping into the seat across from her, “it’s Present Bea’s drink of choice. I figure you could probably use it right about now.”

“What the hell was Claudio thinking?”

“That will...become clear, eventually,” Hero said carefully, tracing her finger around the rim of her own drink.

“And Pedro? I mean, what the hell –”

“It was a bad night,” Hero agreed, “just really awful.”

“I hope you crush him like a bug, for what he did to you.”

“Beatrice…”

“And if you don’t, I will.”

At this, Hero smiled fondly.

“You’ve always been protective of me,” She said, “a regular knight in shining armor.”

“I hate him for what he did to you,” Bea reached for her drink, downing it in one long gulp.

“I did, too, for a little while.”

“Don’t tell me that means you forgive him,” Beatrice stared at Hero, horrified.

“This may come as a shock, Beatrice, but that was a decade ago now, and even _you_ don’t hold grudges quite that long.”

“Are you saying _I_ forgive him?” Bea was aghast. “Because I can tell you, I don’t see a future where _that’s_ possible.”

Hero shrugged and sipped at her drink.

“All I’m saying is that people change,” She said, “and that doing a bad thing – _especially_ when you’re only in high school – doesn’t make you a bad person. Not everything is so black and white, you know.”

“This is such bullshit,” Bea complained, reaching for a cookie, “I can’t believe he did this to you and you’re going to just forgive him!”

“You don’t know the whole story yet, Bea,” Hero reminded, “and you know I can’t tell you anything, but just so you know, I don’t just forgive him out of the blue – he does have to _earn_ it.”

“All these futures I’ve time hopped to – you or Ben could’ve told me, and I could’ve stopped it. We could’ve sorted all of this out and made it so it didn’t happen. Why didn’t you?”

“Because it was something was supposed to happen to us – a lesson we were all supposed to learn. It sucked, it was terrible in the moment, but it made us better people by the end of it. _All_ of us, not just Claud or Pedro.” Hero leaned across the table and took Bea’s hand in hers. “Not to mention, if we let you change it, you would’ve disrupted the whole future. It wouldn’t have been something that happened organically. I mean, say you _did_ set Claudio straight – he would still have those jealousy issues, but we never would’ve addressed them, and we would’ve stayed together for who knows how much longer, even though we weren’t right for each other in the long term. And Pedro and John never would’ve –” She paused. Beatrice raised her brow.

“Never would’ve…?” She prompted. Hero shook her head and mimed zipping her lips.

“The point is, a lot of good came from that awful night.” She let go of Bea’s hand and leaned back in her seat. “Just – be prepared for it to take a while to get to the good, alright? It won’t happen right away, and you might feel helpless, but you’ve got to ride it out. Okay?”

“Okay,” Beatrice nodded, reluctant but resigned, “I trust you.”

“Oh, and now might be a good time to clue Ben into the whole time travel thing,” Hero grinned, “if I remember right, you were in the middle of accusing him of withholding information right before you passed out.”

“Oh yeah,” Beatrice made a sour face, “that. You know, I’m still not sure how Ben and I get from whatever we are now to being engaged and living together.”

“Married, now,” Hero corrected, nodding towards Bea’s left hand, “A couple months ago.”

“What?” Beatrice looked at her hand and recoiled. “I hope we didn't have a big ceremony. I never pictured myself having one, really.”

“Well, you didn’t,” Hero laughed, “you eloped. I was the witness.”

“Eloped, huh?” Bea twisted the ring absently, “You know, I’m getting a little light-headed, and I honestly can’t tell if it’s from hearing that news or because it’s time for me to go.”

“Remember what I said about being patient,” Hero advised, “I know you have a hard time with that.”

“I’ll try,” Bea promised. “I guess I’ll see you later, Future Hero?”

Hero smiled and blew her a kiss.

“See you later, Past Bea.”

-

When Beatrice opened her eyes, she was laid out on the couch, and Hero was gone. Ben was sitting in a chair nearby, fidgeting nervously. When he saw that she was awake, he jumped up.

“Are you alright? Hero said –”

“Where is she?” Beatrice asked, looking around. She sat up, suddenly frantic. “Where’s Hero?”

“Take it easy,” Ben sat next to her, putting a hand on her shoulder, “she’s upstairs, resting. I told her I’d stay with you.”

“So she’s okay? I mean, her lung condition –”

“It’s fine, she’s fine. I made her tea once she could really breathe again, and now she’s upstairs. Don’t worry.”

“Oh,” Bea settled down, relaxing into the couch. She grabbed one of the pillows and hugged it to her chest. “Well… Thank you. For taking care of her, and for… waiting with me.”

“No problem.” They fell into an uneasy silence; Beatrice’s eyes trained forward as she clutched the pillow, Ben shifting awkwardly beside her. “Hey, Bea? Um… right before you passed out, you were saying a lot of confusing stuff. About a future me, or something…?”

“Yeah, about that...” She took a deep breath, then turned to face him. “We should probably talk.”


	3. Time Travel AU (part 3!)

Beatrice sat leaned up against her headboard, watching intently as Ben, sitting cross legged at the foot of her bed, leafed through her time hop journal. She’d made him promise not to say anything until he’d read it all, after she explained the situation as best she could, and he’d remained dutifully silent. Only now, his silence was driving her crazy – he’d read through the journal twice over, and kept flipping back to the beginning and starting again. It was like the worst kind of torture, not knowing that he was thinking.

Finally, he set the journal aside, sighing heavily. He clasped his hands in front of his face, resting his chin on the interlocked fingers, and looked at Bea with an expression that she couldn’t distinguish.

“…Well?” She prompted.

“So you’re saying in all of these futures, and according to your journal there are quite a few,” He paused, mouth going dry, “you and I are together? Like… romantically?”

“Oh my God, that is so not the point!” Bea was red-faced, reaching for the journal. “I’m telling you that I’m somehow able to time travel, and _that’s_ what you latch onto? You don’t have _anything_ else to say?”

He took a moment to mull it over.

“I think it’s really cool,” He told her, “and it explains all those weird fainting episodes.”

“And?” She urged, “You believe me?”

“Well, of course I believe you,” He said, affronted, “what makes you think I wouldn’t? This would be awfully in depth for a prank. And besides, I’m all about the sci-fi stuff. This basically validates everything I’ve ever secretly believed in.”

Beatrice rolled her eyes.

“Well, I live to serve,” She said dryly, “So glad to have validated you with my totally weird existence.”

“So earlier, when you said I knew about what was going to happen with Claudio tonight, you meant I said something about it in the future?”

“You alluded to it, yes, exactly,” She nodded emphatically.

“So you’re mad at Present Me because Future Me didn’t give you proper warning?”

“I’m not mad. At least… not anymore. Hero calmed me down, and we talked it out.”

“But Hero went to her room after you passed out. When did you have a chance to talk to her about this?”

“Not _Present_ Hero, _Future_ Hero.”

“This is making me dizzy…”

“Ha!” She rolled her eyes. “Try living it.”

“Can I see your notebook again?”

She handed it to him, and he flipped through the pages.

“How come some stuff is crossed out?”

“Oh – because they’re futures that don’t exist anymore. Like the one where I moved to Australia with my parents. Because of my choice to move to Auckland, that future never happened.”

“Does it scare you?” He asked, “Or do you like it?”

“It scared me when I didn’t know what was happening to me,” She admitted. “I mean, not that I know what’s happening to me now, but I’m used to it. It’s not all bad, but mostly I wish it would just stop. Or at least that I could control when it happened. Like – I can never drive by myself, because what if I pass out? Usually I can feel it coming on, and that gives me some time to pull over, but I can’t take that risk, so I need a passenger at all times. And when it happens in class or anywhere really public, it’s super embarrassing.”

“Do you get to see future movies and stuff? That’s got to be an upside. How do the Mockingjay movies turn out? How many Avengers movies have they made?”

“I’ve never seen any future movies, I’m never there long enough for that. The longest time hops are like, fifteen minutes max, and those are rare.”

“What a rip off!” He cried, “if you’re going to be subjected to real-life superhero stuff, you should at least get the benefit of seeing movies before they even exist in the present!”

“I’ll take it up with the board of time hoppers,” Bea joked, reaching for the notebook. Their hands brushed together, and Ben stiffened.

“Hey, can I ask a kind of… personal question?” He asked. She nodded. “When you’re with Future Me, do you ever… I mean, _have_ you ever… kissed?”

“Only once - and even then, only because you didn’t realize I’d time hopped.” She tugged her knees to her chest and deliberately looked anywhere but at Ben. “It was the first time I time hopped to you and I. Future You kissed me before you realized what was happening, but once you knew it was Present Me, you backed off. We don’t – we never kiss, or anything. It would be too weird.”

“Okay,” Ben kept his eyes glued to the ceiling, “just wondering.”

“Can I ask _you_ something?” She asked. He nodded. “Do you feel trapped, now that you know we’re together in every future I’ve been to?”

“Trapped? No, I’m relieved!” He said, too quickly. Horrified, he looked to Bea, whose jaw had dropped. “I mean! Not that I like you! Or anything. It just – takes the guesswork out, you know? I mean, at least it’s not somebody _boring_ , anyways. At least it would be entertaining.” He paused. “Wait, why? Do _you_ feel trapped?”

“No, I – I mean, I have free will, so.” She turned the journal over in her hands, scoffing. “I mean, it doesn’t matter what the futures I’ve been to say – if I don’t want to be with you, I won’t be with you.”

“So… you don’t want to be with me.” He nodded slowly, more to himself than to Bea.

“I didn’t say that.”

He brightened.

“So you _do_ want to be with me.”

“I didn’t say _that_ , either!”

“So which is it?”

She hesitated, choosing her words carefully.

“I don’t _not_ want to be with you,” was what she finally settled on. She nudged his knee with her foot. “What about you?”

“I don’t not want to be with you, either.” He said.

“Good. I’m glad we have that settled.”

“Hey, Bea?” She looked up. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

She nodded.

“Just – don’t be insulted if I faint. It’s nothing personal.”

He leaned forward and she met him halfway, his hand cupping the back of her head and hers braced on his shoulders.

“Hey, look at that,” He said, when they broke apart, “you’re still conscious.”

“For now, at least,” She agreed.

“So this whole ‘you and me’ thing,” He inquired, “did you ever think about it before you saw it in the future?”

“Well, did you think about it before I let you read my journal?” She countered.

“I asked you first.”

“Well, obviously it had to at least have crossed my mind for it to be a future. We didn’t just start dating out of nowhere. It’s got to come from something.” Ben’s smile, smug though it was, was infectious.

“So yes. You thought about it all the time. Daily. Hourly. You couldn’t go a full minute without –” Beatrice reached out and pinched him, hard. “Ow!”

“Benedick Hobbes, did you or did you not think about us together before I let you read my journal?”

“It is something I had considered, however briefly, before,” He conceded, rubbing at his arm irritably. “But now that you’ve _maimed_ me, you can just forget about it.”

“So basically you were fawning over me,” She grinned, preening, “pining from afar. Wallowing in your unrequited love.” Benedick snorted.

“That kiss just now wasn’t what I’d call unrequited,” He said. In one swift motion, she shoved him then grabbed his collar and pulled him in for another kiss. “So… what does this mean? For us?”

“I don’t know,” She confessed, grip on his collar loosening, “Do we have to figure that out right now?”

Ben leaned in, smiling.

“Nah,” He said, tapping her journal, “from the looks of it, we’ve got our whole lives to figure it out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For now, I'm going to call this the end of the Time Travel AU. It feels complete to me, and I'm happy with where Ben and Bea are left off -- but you never know when inspiration may strike! ;)


	4. Post-Apocalyptic AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ben & bea & the end of the world.
> 
> (another) trigger warning for character death - again, just mentions of it, no actual descriptions of it occurring.

The world has been over for almost two months now. Two months since the raging fires that couldn’t be stopped, two months since the skies opened up and the floods came, two months since the earth began to split and chasms appeared in the middle of roads, two months since ninety-eight percent of the world’s population was completely decimated.

They used to joke about the end of the world at the lunch table, before it was real. They’d talk about who they’d want to be with when everything went south. They even made a list, once, of what everyone’s strong suit was, what would make them ideal partners for the apocalypse. And every time, Beatrice and Benedick were adamant that they’d rather die, rather immediately surrender to the apocalypse, than be stuck with each other when it all went down.

It seems only fitting, then, that when it really happens, they’re the two who wind up thrown together.

Ben had found her a week after the floods, when there was only wreckage left. She was wandering the street carrying only a backpack, looking dazed. He was so happy to see her that he ran up and hugged her, took her fully into his arms and spun her in a circle.

“Ben?” She’d stared at him like he wasn’t real, like he might’ve disappeared any second. She reached out and touched his cheek.

“I can’t believe you’re alive!” He’d cried, triumphant. He looked around, realization dawning. “Is Hero…?”

“Yeah.” She looked away, “Leo, too. Have you found anybody else?”

“Just you,” He’d said. “So I guess we’re a team now, huh?”

So that’s how they wound up together, after everything.

Now they’re sleeping in a tent and eating whatever they can find, whenever they can find it. They’re not the only two left in Auckland – there are handfuls of other survivors, but they don’t know each other, and people are slow to trust these days. There’s a rumor that things are better in Australia, that things are starting to be rebuilt, so that’s their goal. Bea’s not convinced it’s true, but Ben tells her that believing in something is the only way they’re going to survive this, so they’re going to try.

Bea builds them a fire, and Ben goes through her backpack, assessing their food options. Mainly, it’s a lot of canned goods.

“Baked beans, or cream of mushroom soup?” He asks, holding out both cans. Bea makes a face.

“The soup, I guess.” She blows on the fire to get it going, and takes a seat next to Ben. She takes the backpack and dumps it out, lining up the contents. After Ben found her, they went around to everybody’s houses, just to see. They dug through what was left and took mementos when they could find them. There was the necklace that Hero had made her all those years ago – that stayed around Bea’s neck at all times. There was a guitar pick that they’d found a few feet away from what they guessed was Balthazar’s bedroom. A _Pedro Donaldson for Student Leader!_ pin that Ben had found. A broken pair of glasses that Bea was positive belonged to Ursula. A tube of lipstick in Meg’s favorite shade that they’d found in what remained of her bathroom. What was left of Claudio’s tattered football jersey. Bea lines them all up by the fire and touches them one by one.

“Bea –” Ben’s fingers brush the back of her hand, but she pulls away.

“Two months ago we were sitting around the lunch tables arguing over dumb stuff, and now all of them are gone,” She says. She looks at Ben, fierce. “Why _us_?”

“I dunno,” He says, “but we’re still here.”

He watches as Beatrice twists the beads of her necklace, something he’s noticed she does when she’s lost in thought, when she’s somewhere far away and he can’t reach her anymore. Wordlessly, he heats up the soup, and when it’s ready, they eat it in silence.

“Sorry you’re not facing the end of the world with someone whose company you actually enjoy,” She says quietly, “I’m sure you’d rather be with Pedro or Claud.”

“I enjoy your company,” He tells her, “I’ve always enjoyed your company.” She scoffs.

“Yeah, right.”

“No, really,” He says, bouncing in his seat, a bundle of nerves, “I – I don’t know if this is a good time to say this – I don’t know if there _is_ a good time to say this, and it might ruin everything, but… but the world ended, and we’re still here, so I feel like – I feel like, nothing else can ever be scary again, so I just have to – I’m just gonna say it.”

Beatrice goes very still, eyes never leaving Ben’s face.

“Say what?” She asks.

“Beatrice, I… okay, you’re gonna think that I’m just saying this because everyone else is – _gone_ , but I swear, I’m not. I’ve felt this way for – for so long, really, and I just – I didn’t know it. I didn’t let myself really think about it, for a long time. But I’ve always – I swear, I’ve _always_ –”

“Just _say_ it.”

“Okay.” He takes a deep breath. “In this whole stupid world, before it ended and after, there is nothing and no one that I care about the way that I care about you. Bea, I – I love you. And I know, I _know_ , it feels like nothing is ever going to be good again, but, Bea, even with everything that’s happened, even in the end of the world, I find myself just so, so – _happy_ – so stupidly, inexplicably happy that you’re the person I’m facing it with. And I didn’t think I was ever going to be happy again.”

She kisses him then, so suddenly that it catches him completely by surprise – she grabs him by the collar and pulls him toward her and kisses him.

“So – does that mean…?” He asks, when they’ve broken away. She bites her lip, but it doesn’t stop her smile. She nods.

“I love you, too.”

“And it’s not – it’s not just because I’m one of the last men left on earth, right?”

She gives a watery laugh, and presses her forehead against his.

“You are the only good thing – the _only_ bright spot left in this world,” She tells him, “but I loved you when there were other good things, too.”

“Our timing is for shit,” Ben says, and she laughs again, pulling him into another kiss.


	5. Food Truck AU

Beatrice nearly fell out of the window, she was craned so far out to get a better look.

“No way,” She fumed, “this has to be a joke. Hero, come tell me this is a joke.”

Hero peered over Beatrice’s shoulder at the bright orange food truck, boasting garish blue lettering that read _‘CHEESY MAC’_ over an image of a piping hot bowl of macaroni and cheese.

“I don’t think it’s a joke.” She glanced nervously over at Bea, who was turning redder by the second, gripping her ladle so tightly that Hero was afraid it might bend. “Don’t freak out, okay? I’m sure if we just talk to them –”

“Oh, we’re going to talk to them.” She hoisted herself up onto the counter and scooted over it, jumping down onto the street and marching across, pounding on the back of the offending truck. The door opened and a guy with dark blonde hair jumped out, looking apologetic.

“Hey! Sorry, but we’re gonna need a few more minutes before we open up.”

“Yeah, I’m not a customer.” Beatrice jerked her thumb over her shoulder, gesturing to her own food truck – pale yellow with an orange trim, _‘Mac-o-Licious Duke’s’_ scrawled across it in salmon pink letters. “You see that food truck? That belongs to me and my cousin.”

“Oh, cool,” the man said, giving it a once over. “Nice to meet you. I’m Claudio.”

“Okay, well, you’re on our territory, Claudio.” Beatrice brandished her ladle at him, “We’ve been serving mac and cheese here for over a year now.”

“Beatrice,” Hero called from the window, “come on, leave them alone.”

“What’s all this?” Another man popped out from the passenger side of the truck, coming around back to join them. Beatrice’s jaw dropped further.

“Oh, my God,” She balked, “you’ve _got_ to be kidding me.”

“Beatrice Duke!” He broke out into a grin, opening his arms to embrace her. She pressed the ladle to his chest, keeping him at bay.

“Benedick _fucking_ Hobbes,” She intoned, “I should’ve known.”

By now, Hero had come around from their own truck, resting a hand on Bea’s shoulder.

“Ben Hobbes, like from culinary school Ben Hobbes?” She asked. Beatrice grit her teeth and nodded.

“I see my reputation precedes me,” Ben said smugly, puffing out his chest. “And who might you be?”

“Hero,” She introduced, “I’m Bea’s cousin.”

“Claudio,” He chimed in, reaching to shake Hero’s hand, “it’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” She smiled brightly.

“It is _not_ nice to meet him,” Beatrice corrected, “it is not nice to meet _anybody_ right now. As you can see, we’ve got a problem here.”

“What’s the problem with a little friendly competition?” Ben asked, glancing around the group, “One Mac and Cheese to rule them all! Let’s let the customers decide. It’ll be fun.”

“That doesn’t sound fun at all, actually. That sounds like a nightmare.”

“Come on, Ben, let’s just find somewhere else to go,” Claudio suggested, “I mean, we just got here. It’s not like we’re established. We can just drive the truck few miles down the road. No harm, no foul.”

“Try twenty miles down the road,” Beatrice muttered, “try one _hundred_ miles down the road.”

“Beatrice,” Hero chided, “we don’t _own_ the block. We can’t make them leave if they don’t want to leave. Besides, we have a really loyal customer base. I’m sure we’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Listen to your cousin, Beatrice,” Ben advised, “she’s got the right idea. The more the merrier! In fact – let’s make a wager, shall we?”

That caught Bea’s attention. She regarded him suspiciously, considering.

“What sort of wager?”

“Whoever has the best sales by the end of the month gets the space,” He declared, “loser has to move somewhere else.”

He held his hand out to her expectantly. She glared at him. Claudio and Hero exchanged nervous glances.

“ _Fine_ ,” She snarled, and she shook his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are food truck AUs even a thing? i don't know, but they should be.


	6. Bodyswap AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> full fic can be found here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/2476838

“Do you really think this’ll work?” Hero fretted, standing nervously over the boiling pot.

“Of course it’ll work,” Meg dismissed, adding a pinch of cinnamon to the mix, “We followed all the instructions perfectly.”

“And we’re sure all it’s supposed to do is make them see what’s already there?” Hero pressed, as the mixture let out a gurgle, “I mean, if we’re wrong –”

“If we’re wrong, nothing happens,” Pedro pointed to the writing at the bottom of the webpage, “See? If the feelings aren’t there, nothing happens. But if they _are_ into each other, which they _are,_ this just helps to move things along.”

“Gives them some clarity,” Balthazar added. “Can someone pass me the lavender?”

“Only use a pinch,” Ursula cautioned, handing over a vial of the dried flowers. “Where’d you even hear about this, Meg?”

“Robbie’s older sister’s roommate tried it out on her best guy friend, and they were dating like, a day later.” Meg tossed her hair over her shoulder reached around Balthazar to give the concoction a stir. “I’m telling you, this is the real deal.”

“Good,” Claudio passed Balthazar a sprig of sage, “Those two need all the help they can get.”

“This smells awful,” Hero cringed, pinching her nose, “they’ll never drink it!”

“That’s what the vanilla is for,” Meg insisted, pouring half the bottle of extract in, “it’ll mask the smell.”

“Hero, do you have the wormwood ready?” Balthazar called out. She nodded, sliding it over to him dutifully.

“Is it supposed to be so thick?” Ursula eyed the pot skeptically, “That seems… off.”

“It’ll thin out.” Meg ripped open three bags of jasmine tea, dumping the contents into the pot.

“Watch it!” Pedro warned, “That was way too much!”

“Oh, whatever, you already put in too much wolfsbane,” She accused.

“Um, guys? It’s turning yellow,” Claudio said, waving his hand in front of their faces.

“Oh, that means it’s done!” Hero cried eagerly, leaning over to double check the recipe. Balthazar grabbed two thermoses from the counter and poured exactly half the contents in each one.

“Perfect,” He announced.

“The Love Gods triumph!” Meg declared, pumping her fist in the air. Ursula grabbed the laptop, scrolling through the directions.

“It says here we have to let it sit overnight – so Hero, make sure that Bea drinks it with her breakfast tomorrow. And who’s giving it to Ben?”

“I will,” Claudio volunteered, “I’ll tell him I’ve found a tea that even _he_ wouldn’t like. No way he can resist that challenge.”

“Monday morning they drink this, Tuesday they’re together forever,” Balthazar grinned, exchanging high-fives with Pedro and Ursula.

“Team Blessed is back in action,” Hero said, and she slipped the thermos into her bag.

-

The next morning, Hero had already poured the contents of the thermos into a glass for Beatrice, next to a plate of waffles. When Bea came downstairs, she sniffed it experimentally, and shook her head.

“Thanks but no thanks, Hero,” She winced, “I think I’ll stick to coffee.” Hero pouted.

“Please try it? It’s supposed to be a huge energy boost – way more than coffee!” She pushed the glass towards her, insistent. “I know it smells a little weird, but if you just plug your nose and down it…”

“Did you make it yourself?” Beatrice asked, holding the glass up to the light and studying the contents further. Hero nodded. “Well… okay. But I’m only doing this because I love you.”

She took it down in one big gulp, swallowing it hard. She gagged immediately, clutching at her throat.

“Not so bad, right?” Hero said brightly. Beatrice stared at her.

“Hero, you beautiful, sweet, angel… that was the most disgusting beverage I have ever in my whole life consumed.”

“Sorry, Bea,” Hero reached over and pat her hand sympathetically, “next time, I’ll make sure it’s better.”

-

Ben nearly threw up in the parking lot after downing the entire thermos. Claudio had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

“My God, man!” Ben sputtered, “What the hell was _that?_ That’s an insult to tea!”

“I _told_ you you weren’t gonna like it,” Claudio reminded him. “You’re the one who insisted you’d never met a tea you didn’t like.”

“Whatever the hell _that_ was,” Ben pointed at the now empty thermos, “It was _not_ tea.”

“Well, it’s gone forever now, anyways,” Claudio shrugged. “The worst is over. You made it through.”

“ _Have_ I? Ugh,” Ben stuck his tongue out and gagged one more time, for dramatic effect. “Let’s just get to class before I pass away.”

-

Lunch that day was as normal as any other – everyone paid special attention to Benedick and Beatrice, but their arguments were so monumental on any given day that the extra attention was hardly noticed.

-

Beatrice went to bed early that night complaining of a stomach ache. She didn’t know it at the time, but Ben did, too. Both of them thought the drink from earlier was to blame, and both of them fell asleep within minutes of their heads hitting the pillow.

When Ben woke up the next morning, he was in Beatrice’s room. He only recognized it because he’d peeked in when he’d been over for pizza last week, when everyone had left him to wait for Pedro while they’d gone out to get it. He didn’t dare do more than peek, at the time – he knew Bea would’ve killed him if she ever knew.

He sprang up, looking around wildly. Beatrice was nowhere to be seen. He threw back the sheets and jumped out of bed, and it wasn’t until he dragged his hand through his hair that he realized something peculiar: it was suddenly quite long.

He looked into the mirror and let out a scream.

When Ben had woken up that morning, he was in Beatrice’s body.

-

Beatrice woke up to scratchy, unfamiliar sheets and the four walls of Ben’s bedroom, very little of which had changed from when they were fourteen. She lay very still, glancing around, trying to remember every possible thing from the night before. Her stomach had hurt. She’d gone to bed early. And now… she was in Ben’s bed.

Was it possible that she’d gotten drunk last night? What were the chances that Hero’s tea had given her some kind of bad, drugged up reaction? But even if that had happened – why would she have gone to _Ben’s_ house?

“Is this some kind of sick joke?” She asked aloud, and that was her first clue something was wrong. It wasn’t _her_ who said that, it was –

But Ben wasn’t anywhere to be found.

As cautiously as she could manage, she clamored out of the bed and made her way to the mirror above Ben’s dresser. And before she could let out the scream that was bubbling in her throat, the bedroom window was thrown open and she – or her _body,_ rather – was scrambling inside, practically somersaulting over themselves. They fell to the floor in a tangle, and Hero crawled through the window afterwards, stumbling over Beatrice’s body on the way in.

“Hero,” Beatrice-as-Ben hissed, voice low and dangerous, “what the _fuck_ is going on here?”

“Uh,” Hero twisted at the hem of her sweater, glancing between Ben and Beatrice nervously, “We may have done something terrible.”


	7. Drunk Married AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning for gendered slurs and some mild violence - there's a claudio/hero confrontation scene towards the end of this chapter. forewarned is forearmed!

The hangover that greeted Beatrice that morning was worse than any she’d ever experienced before. Her head was pounding, like it was doing everything it could to literally escape from her skull. She groaned, reaching out blindly to the bedside table, in the hopes that she’d find some water. The relief she felt when she wrapped her fingers around a glass quickly drained when she realized it was empty. Grumbling, she opened her eyes and sat up, immediately overcome with nausea. Glancing around, she went still. This was not her room. This room was not familiar to her at all – all she recognized was her dress, haphazardly tossed over the back of a chair. Clearly, they’d gone back to the hotel, where she was _supposed_ to be sharing a room with Hero – not that it had played out that way, apparently.

 _Okay,_ Bea thought to herself, _time to regroup._

The things she definitely remembered: they’d all gone on a booze cruise, for Meg’s twenty-seventh birthday party. She remembered being genuinely horrified when Ben-the-Dick sauntered out on to the deck, tagging along behind Pedro, Balthazar, and some guy they’d introduced as Claud.

“Why is he here?” She’d demanded of Meg, who was already decently tipsy.

“Who, him?” Meg had peered up innocently from over her drink, something frothy and pink with a cartoonish umbrella poking out of it, “I thought you told me you were over that whole thing. Besides, I’m the birthday girl, and birthday girl gets to invite whoever she wants, no complaints!”

So, that had happened.

She also remembered everyone doing a round of birthday shots, and a game that involved taking a drink every time she and Ben started arguing about something new – a game that came to a rapid end, when drinks were being emptied far too quickly. The last thing she could vividly recall was Pedro suggesting she and Ben get into a shots-off, which she’d initially refused, but then Ben had the _nerve_ to say it was “for the best” that she didn’t challenge him, because he would “easily defeat her, and her tender ego couldn’t take it”. Naturally, she couldn’t turn a blind eye to _that_.

It was after that her memory went hazy. She couldn’t recall how the shots-off had ended, but she had vague memories of making out with someone, then just flashes of running from one end of the ship to another, demanding to see the Captain, and – a cloudy recollection of throwing her shoes overboard?

Staggering to the bathroom, she filled her glass with water, and drank it all down in one big gulp. Something was irritating her finger, and when she held it in front of her face to examine it, she discovered the problem: a blue twist tie, tightly wound around her ring finger on her left hand.

“Weird,” she muttered, and she unwrapped it, dropping it into the trashcan. She filled the glass up again, sipping slowly this time, and made her way back towards the bed. Grabbing her dress of the chair, she tugged it over her head. There was no sign of whoever she’d gone to bed with – no note, no anything. And Beatrice certainly wasn’t going to sit around and wait for them, whoever they were, to get back. There was only one thing to do – find the others, and have them help her piece the night together.

-

She found Pedro, Balthazar, Meg, and Ursula at the buffet downstairs. The others looked properly hungover, but Meg was in obnoxiously bright spirits, looking freshly showered and sipping a mimosa. She grinned wickedly when she saw Bea, and flagged her over.

“Someone had a wild night.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Like death warmed over,” She groaned, “how are you _not_?”

“Oh, please,” She waved her off, “I’m an expert at warding off hangovers. Practically a professional.”

“Where’s Hero? No way she’s still asleep.” Bea glanced around. If anyone would’ve kept tabs on her last night, it would’ve been Hero.

“You don’t remember?” Balthazar laughed. “She and Claud disappeared around ten thirty, no one’s seen them since.”

“She’s still alive, though,” Ursula added, sliding a bottle of aspirin to Bea, who took it gratefully. “I texted her last night before I went to bed to check in, and she responded this morning saying she’s still with Claudio and they’re going out to breakfast together.”

“Who even _is_ that guy?” Bea turned to Pedro, poking him in the chest, “Is he good enough for her, or should I be hunting him down?”

“Claud’s a good guy, yeah,” He nodded, “I trust him.”

“Nevermind that!” Meg dismissed, “We have way more important things to discuss! Like Bea’s wild night, for instance.”

“Ugh, I know,” Bea rolled her eyes, reaching for a mug of coffee, “Why do I feel like I threw my shoes overboard? Is that a thing?”

“Oh yeah,” Balthazar nodded, delighted at the memory, “you ripped off your shoes and you shouted ‘high heels are oppressive!’”

“Then Ben said ‘smash the patriarchy!’ and you chucked them into the ocean,” Pedro added. “It was a pretty impressive throw. You got some serious distance.”

“Yeesh,” She winced, “Hero’s gonna kill me, I was borrowing them from her.”

“ _Again,_ so not the point,” Meg was growing impatient. “What about the _wedding_?”

“Wedding?” Bea frowned.

“I have to say, you _are_ remarkably calm for someone who married their alleged enemy last night,” Ursula commended. “I assumed you’d be at a level-four meltdown right now.”

“I’m sorry, am I still drunk? Did you just say _married?_ ” She nearly choked on her coffee.

“Oh my God,” Meg’s eyes widened, and so did her smile, “you don’t remember! You seriously don’t remember?”

“And what do you mean, to my _enemy?_ Who does that even –” She froze. “Oh no. Dear God, no. _Tell me_ it wasn’t –”

“Ah, there’s my blushing bride!” Benedick was beaming as he approached the table. Bea felt nauseous all over again, stomach lurching. “When I came back to the room with hangover supplies, you were gone.” He put a hand on her shoulder, and she jumped out of her seat.

“Alright, very funny prank, you guys,” She said, “you had me going for a minute there, I’ll give you that. But it’s over now, okay? I am far too hungover to laugh at this, and I need you guys to help me piece together who the hell’s room I woke up in this morning.”

“My room,” Ben said, frowning quizzically, “I just got through telling you that. Hey, where’s your ring?”

“My… ring?” She repeated dumbly. Ben held up his left hand, which had a twist tie wrapped around the ring finger. Bea made a face. “That thing? I threw it out.”

“Threw it out!” Ben clutched his heart, “The symbol of our love, thrown out! You wound me!”

“He’s such a drama queen,” Ursula whispered to Meg, who was leaning forward, watching the whole scene intently.

“I know, and I love it,” She replied, “now hush, it’s getting good.”

“Just kidding,” Ben chirped good naturedly, as he plucked the makeshift ring off his finger, “I support you throwing it out, dearest. I completely agree with you. Rings are basically leashes, a warning sign to all others that say ‘I am taken’. As though you can own people!”

“That’s not why I threw mine out!” She protested, “I threw mine out because it’s _not even a ring_.”

“What, like you don’t agree with everything he just said?” Pedro snorted. “How many times have I heard you go on that same rant?”

“Fine, yes, so I agree that rings are stupid and you shouldn’t need them to prove some kind of eternal love, but that’s not the point! We’re not talking about an eternal love, we’re talking about a terrible drunken mistake that I’m not sure I even believe really _happened_.” She crossed her arms and stuck her nose up haughtily. “After all, where’s the marriage certificate? And who would’ve performed the ceremony, anyway? Last I checked, no one we know is ordained.”

“Actually, the captain of a ship is legally allowed to perform marriages,” Balthazar informed her, patting down his pockets and producing a neatly folded piece of paper, “and you gave me the marriage certificate to hold on to.”

“Oh my God.” The color drained from Bea’s face as she took the paper and read it over, eyes locking with a smirking Ben. “ _Why_ are you not freaking out right now?!”

“Why would I be freaking out? I’ve always thought marriage was a sham, this just proves my point!” He scoffed. “If two drunk assholes can get married on a boat because they thought it’d be a funny joke, how ‘sacred’ of an institution can it _actually_ be? I’ve been saying for years marriage was stupid, archaic, outdated, unnecessary –”

“Hey,” Pedro cut in, holding up Balthazar’s ring-adorned hand in his own, “some of us _like_ being married, thank you.”

“Well of course _you_ do, because same-sex marriages were denied for _centuries_ ,” Ben dismissed. “So of course it’s more meaningful for you. That’s different.”

“Actually –” Balthazar began, but Bea cut him off.

“Listen Ben, I agree with you, alright? I’ve never thought of myself as the marrying type, I’ve never seen a need for it,” She thrust the marriage certificate at him, “Which is _precisely_ why we need to fix this!”

“Oh, hi, everybody!” Hero greeted brightly, as she and Claudio strolled towards them hand-in-hand, “How was the rest of everyone’s night?”

“Hero! How about a hug for your new cousin-in-law?” Ben crowed, heading for her with arms open. Hero gave him a puzzled sort of smile, looking to Beatrice for explanation. Beatrice’s only answer was to let out a frustrated yell and slump into the chair across from Meg, defeated.

-

Despite Bea’s many texts and angry voicemails, Ben simply did not have the same urgency – or _any_ urgency, really – to fix their problem.

“What’s the rush?” He’d ask her, “In a hurry to marry someone else?”

“What if I met a guy I really liked? What then?” She’d demand to know, “I’d have to explain to him that I drunk married an asshole and now he won’t divorce me!”

“Is there a guy?”

“Well, no, but –”

“Then what’s the rush?” Then there would be some noise in the background and he’d say, “Sorry, my angel, but I really must go!” and he’d hang up on her.

Finally, she just mailed him the divorce papers, with her signature all over them. He never even told her if he got them.

-

Truth be told, it was easy to forget, after a while. She wound up not seeing Ben until a cookout at Claudio’s, more than a month later. She’d been chatting with Meg and Pedro when he arrived, coming right up behind her and placing his hand on the small of her back.

“Hey there, Wifey, long time no see,” He greeted, and Beatrice made a disgusted noise, pushing his hand away. Undeterred, he turned to the others. “Hey Nutmeg, Pedro.”

“Hey, Mr. Duke,” Meg teased. Beatrice gagged.

“Do _not_ call him that,” She shuddered.

“I don’t mind it, actually,” Ben said, stroking his chin thoughtfully, “I never considered taking your name, but now that I think of it, Benedick Duke has a nice ring to it.”

“I will not allow you to sully the Duke family name by associating yourself with us,” Bea sneered. “Now, unless you’ve brought the divorce papers with you – _signed_ – I don’t have anything else to discuss with you.”

Ben held up his empty hands.

“No such luck, sweetheart.”

“Then I’m going to find Hero and Claudio.” She started off towards the house, then added over her shoulder, glaring menacingly at Ben, “Do _not_ follow me, Hobbes.” She slammed the door behind her.

“Sweet girl, isn’t she?” Ben’s voice dripped with sarcasm. Pedro and Meg exchanged looks, eyebrows raised.

“So when are you going to stop tormenting her and give it up, man?” Pedro asked, “I think it’s gone on long enough.”

“Give it up? Are you kidding?” Ben scoffed, “Why would I give it up? I’m proving a point! Marriage is a sham, remember?”

“It’s been almost two months, mate,” Pedro said, “I think you’ve gotten your point across. Let it go.”

“ _I_ think you really like her,” Meg crossed her arms, smirking at Ben, “but you have no idea how to handle it, so you’re staying married because it’s a guaranteed way to keep Bea in your life.”

“Wh-what?” Ben sputtered, “That’s – I can’t even – I’m not even going to dignify that with a response! Me, like Beatrice? That’s crazy, Meg, you’re completely out of your mind.”

“Jesus, man, you are so twisted,” Pedro laughed, “you couldn’t just ask her out like a normal person?”

“First of all, it’s not like I _intended_ to marry her. I was drunk too, remember? And second of all, and I cannot stress this part enough –” His face had gone red, “ _I do not like Beatrice._ I mean, yeah, she’s fun to argue with and I like to rile her up, but that doesn’t mean – look, I don’t like her, okay?”

“Okay,” Meg shrugged easily, “so divorce her, then.” Ben shook his head.

“It’s too expensive.”

“Then get it annulled,” Pedro suggested. “You were drunk, that’s a reason to annul.”

“Hard to prove, though.”

“Guess you’ve thought of everything, then,” Meg said, “Except for, oh, I don’t know, how to handle romantic relationships like a _normal person_.”

“You’re hopeless, man,” Pedro shook his head, “totally hopeless.”

-

On Valentine’s Day, Beatrice turned up to work only to find an enormous bouquet of roses, balloons, and boxes of chocolate on her desk, accompanied by a huge card that had _‘to my darling wife’_ written across the front in huge letters. All day, she dealt with coworkers coming up to her and gushing, _I didn’t know you were married! This is so sweet!_

“I’m _not_ married,” She said, making exaggerated gagging noises, “this is my idiot friend’s idea of a sick prank.”

When she called Ben to confront him about it, he just laughed and laughed. She pushed the flowers one by one through the garbage disposal in the small office kitchen, and ran his card through the paper shredder. She kept the chocolates, though, and made herself a nice chocolate salad for lunch.

-

From there, it became a kind of war between them. On his birthday, she sent a singing clown telegram to his workplace.  He sent her a box full of plastic rings, so she sent him an envelope full of glitter. Her left a box of stuffed cats on her doorstep, with a note that said _‘to kickstart your spinster life’;_ she over-nighted a box of toy birds with a note that said _‘RIP all the birds you’ve murdered’_. Their friends started a group text where they’d gossip about the latest torment Ben and Bea were putting each other through, and that’s where they hatched their plans for Team Love Gods. Hero invited Bea to her apartment for dinner with Meg and Ursula, while Pedro and Balthzar invited Ben and Claudio to their place.

When Beatrice went to the kitchen to refill everyone’s drinks, Meg gave Hero a meaningful look, nudging her under the table.

“I don’t know,” Hero stage whispered, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to tell Beatrice how Ben really feels. I mean, if she knew he _loves_ her –”

In the kitchen, something clattered to the floor.

“It’s kind of sad, really,” Ursula agreed, ignoring the commotion, “he’s liked her for so long, and now he’s finally _married_ her, and she’s totally oblivious.”

“He sends her all these romantic gifts and she thinks it’s a big joke!” Hero went on, “Then he’s got to pretend it was joke all along. Claudio told me that Ben is so lovesick, he can’t get off the couch.”

“And you know we can’t even tell Bea, because she’ll flip,” Meg said, pointedly looking away from the kitchen, where it had gone suspiciously silent. “If she knew the real reason Ben won’t sign those papers is because he actually loves her, it’d only make things worse between them.”

“Anyways, speaking of love, how are things with Claudio going?” Ursula asked, and the conversation shifted. Shortly after, Beatrice slipped back into her seat, pale faced and wide eyed, having entirely forgotten her original task of bringing everyone fresh drinks. Meg group texted the Love Gods from under the table: _phase one complete._

-

When Ben left to use the bathroom at Pedro and Balth’s house, they waited until they heard the sink running and then launched in.

“I’m telling you guys, Hero told me,” Claudio said, louder than was entirely necessary, “Bea’s got it bad for Ben. It’s classic elementary school behavior. She gives him such a hard time because she’s in love with him and she doesn’t know how to handle it.”

Ben, who was just about to turn the corner back into the room, felt his heart stop. He pinned himself to the wall and didn’t move a muscle, didn’t dare so much as breathe too deeply for fear of noise.

“Why do you think she never brings any other guys around?” Pedro added, “She’s fully into Ben.”

“Then why is she pushing so hard for the divorce?” Balthazar asked.

“She says if she can’t have him for real, she doesn’t want him at all,” Claudio explained. “It’s too painful for her – how did Hero phrase it? Oh, yeah - she’s finally married to the love of her life, and he treats it like a joke.”

“We can’t ever tell Ben, though,” Pedro warned. Ben’s pace quickened.

“It would devastate her if he found out,” Balthazar agreed, “the last thing she needs is for him to know that she’s madly in love with him.”

Ben crept back to the bathroom and made a big show of opening and shutting the door again, loudly clearing his throat. When he made it back to the living room, they were discussing football, and Pedro had already sent a text blast to the Love Gods: _phase two complete._

-

The sudden realizations led to an unspoken ceasefire between the two of them – both too confused and nervous to keep baiting the other, for fear of what it might bring about. Which is how they found themselves married for half a year – Ben still not signing the divorce papers, Beatrice no longer pushing for it. They were at a standstill.

Their next reunion was a premiere party for a documentary of Ursula’s. The production company rented out an upscale restaurant and hired a band, and they all showed up dressed to the nines.

“You clean up nice,” Meg purred, straightening Ben’s tie, “so does your wife.”

“My w – is she here?” Ben searched the crowd behind her, suddenly panicky, “I didn’t know if she was coming.”

“Like she’d miss this,” Meg scoffed. “She’s behind you, dummy – by the door? Just walked in.” She seized him by the shoulders and spun him around so he’d see Beatrice, in a tight black dress that would definitely be haunting him every time he closed his eyes for at least week. He nearly choked when he saw her, deep in a conversation with Pedro. Pedro saw him first, then said something to Bea, who glanced over at Ben and turned pink, reluctantly heading over to him (after a rather forceful nudge from Pedro).

“Bea,” He greeted, “you look –”

“Right, let’s get this over with,” She sighed, “go ahead and make whatever stupid quip you’re thinking about how you never see me this dressed up, or how I look dumb in –”

“I wasn’t going to say any of that,” Ben interrupted.

“Really?” Bea asked, dubious, “no snappy comments? No snarky remarks?”

“No,” He said, shaking his head, “I was just going to say that you look nice.”

“Oh.” Beatrice still looked suspicious, eyes narrowed. “Okay. Thanks.” They stood in awkward silence, neither of them sure where to go from there, both reluctant to even make eye contact. Bea rocked on her heels. “Well, I’m gonna go find Ursula. I should congratulate her. So – I’ll see you later, I guess?”

“Right,” Ben nodded, “I think we’re at the same table, so…”

“Cool, right,” Bea cleared her throat awkwardly, “so. See you there, I guess.”

-

All of them had been seated together, with the exception of Ursula, who was seated at the table of honor in the center of the room. There were two other people sitting with her – the assistant directors, Bea was pretty sure, but she couldn’t remember their names. Just that they were _weird_ names – weird names for weird people, from what she could tell. They were both talking a mile a minute, Ursula nodding along patiently.

“I’ve never seen the two of you so quiet,” Hero noted, smiling over at Ben and Beatrice, who _of course_ had been seated side by side. (She just _knew_ Ursula was responsible for that one, and she was not amused.) “We’re halfway through dessert and there hasn’t been a single argument! What’s going on between the two of you?”

“Nothing!” Bea sputtered, just as Ben dropped his fork in surprise, “Why would you even – what do you _mean_ , between the two of us?”

“Yeah,” Ben jumped in, “There can’t be something between us, because we’re not even an ‘us’.”

“Except that big fat marriage certificate you still haven’t sorted out,” Balthazar grinned from across the table, “how’s that divorce coming?”

“Divorce is a long and complicated process, for your information,” Ben informed him, “you’ve got to get lawyers involved, and there’s a court date you’ve got to show up for, and probably a billion other things – who has the time?”

“We wouldn’t know,” Pedro smirked, “because we’re rocking married life.” He held up his hand and Balthazar high-fived him, then laced their fingers together.

“Yeah, we get it, you’re the picture of perfect marriage,” Ben made a face.

“You’re the epitome of epic romance,” Bea added, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

“The pinnacle of passion,” Ben was grinning now.

“The very _soul_ of soulmates,” Bea clutched her heart dramatically.

“Now we’ve done it,” Meg sighed, “they’ll never stop now.”

“Speaking of marriage,” Claudio cleared his throat, fumbling around his pocket.

“Oh no,” Bea whispered, eyes widening. Claudio took Hero’s hand and pulled her up, so she was standing just next to the table.

“What’s going on?” She asked, smiling despite the confusion evident on her face. Claudio dropped down on one knee, producing a small velvet box from his pocket. The entire room had gone silent.

“Nononono,” Bea winced, “I can’t watch.”

“Hero, I know we haven’t known each other very long –”

“You got that right,” Bea snorted under her breath, “it hasn’t even been a year!”

“Shut up,” Meg hissed, elbowing her sharply in the side.

“Oh my gosh,” Tears sprung up in Hero’s eyes, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth.

“– but people are always saying _when you know, you know,_ and Hero… I knew from that first night we met that I wanted to spend my life with you.” He opened the box, revealing a glittering diamond ring. Meg clamped her hands over Ben and Bea’s mouths before either of them could make a comment. “Hero Duke, will you marry me?”

“Yes!” She cried, “of course, of course yes!”

Claudio swept her into his arms and spun her in a circle, burying his face in her neck. Everyone burst into applause, save for Ben, who downed his drink with a resigned sigh; and Bea, who stared agape at her cousin as she and her new fiancé were flanked on all sides by friends and strangers alike, all eager to wish them well and examine the ring.

“I cannot believe that just happened,” She said. “Proposing after _six months?_ That’s stupid. They’re out of their minds. Right?” She turned to Ben expectantly.

“Hell yeah, they’re completely bonkers. Relationships are stupid as it is, and marriage is just the stupid, meaningless cherry on top.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “Hey, about those divorce papers…”

“Blech, ugh, no,” Bea made a face, “we’re not talking about that right now. In a matter of minutes, Hero is going to come over to gush about her engagement with me, and I have to do the nice, cousinly thing and act like it’s _not_ the worst idea I’ve ever heard. And if I’m going to do that successfully, I need another drink. Do you want one?”

“A drink?”

“No, a puppy,” She deadpanned. “Yes, a drink. What else would I be talking about?”

“Um – yeah, that’d be great, thanks.”

“So _weird_ ,” She mumbled under her breath, heading over to the bar.

When she got back to the table a few minutes later, Ben was still alone – plates had been cleared and lights had been dimmed, and the band was playing more danceable tunes now. She dropped into the seat next to him and practically shoved his drink at him.

“How much do I owe you for it?” He asked. Bea looked at him like he’d grown another head.

“Nothing. It’s an open bar, remember? Best thing about this party, hands-down.”

“Well, thanks for going out of your way to get it, then,” He said.

She frowned. “I wasn’t going out of my way. I was getting a drink anyway.”

“Well, yeah, but you didn’t have to order it and carry it all the way back over here,” He said.

“Are you serious?” She asked, “ _All the way back over here_? It’s just two drinks. I have two hands. It’s not like it was hard. God, if I knew you’d make this big of a deal about it, I wouldn’t have even offered.”

“Beatrice!” Hero came rushing off the dance floor, taking her cousin by the hands. “Listen, I know how you feel about weddings, and I know you probably aren’t thrilled at the idea –”

“Whaaat,” Beatrice protested weakly, forcing herself to smile, “me? No!”

“But all those feelings aside… will you be my maid of honor? I just can’t imagine anyone else.”

“Of course I will.” Bea’s faced softened. “And, hey – you’re happy, right?”

“I am,” Hero beamed, eyes bright, “I think I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in my whole life.”

“Then I’m happy, too,” Bea pat Hero’s cheek. “Now go, dance with your fiancé!”

Hero bent to hug her, then happily darted back into the crowd, back into Claudio’s arms. Ben gave Bea an appraising look from his seat.

“You didn’t really mean that whole ‘I’m happy if you’re happy’ thing, did you?”

“Nope,” She replied, popping the p, “but she’s my cousin and I love her, and if I tell her what I really think it, it would crush her little baby bird heart. I can’t hurt her like that, no matter how poor I think her life choices are.”

“Well, I assure you I will have _zero_ problem telling Claudio exactly how I feel about this tomorrow,” Ben said. “I’ll tell him he’s making the biggest mistake of his whole life.”

“And he’s going to listen to the man who got drunkenly married on a booze cruise because he thought it’d be _funny_? Who refuses to sign the divorce papers to end said drunken marriage?” She leaned over to him, raising her brow.

“At the time, you thought it would be funny, too,” Ben reminded her, “And you said you didn’t want to talk about the divorce papers.”

“I changed my mind. Look, is this really about wanting a lawyer? It’s not like I’m coming after your ‘assets’ or whatever. But if you really want one, I could recommend –”

“Guess what? Now _I_ don’t want to talk about this.” He rose to his feet. “Let’s dance.” Beatrice gagged.

“Ugh, I hate dancing.”

“Why? Because you’re terrible at it?” He challenged, “Because you’re scared I’m so good at it, it’ll put you to shame?”

“Oh, please!” Beatrice cried, “I could dance circles around you any day.”

“Fine then. Prove it.”

She held his gaze as she stood, kicking off her shoes, and walked past him onto the dance floor. He immediately followed, delighted.

They were both terrible dancers – erratic and lacking any semblance of rhythm, limbs shooting out every which way – but neither seemed to care. Soon they were both laughing, and Bea was vaguely aware that they were being watched (and more than likely laughed at) by more than a few people, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. They danced for three songs in a row, until the music switched to something slower, the singer crooning into the mic. Bea fanned at herself half-heartedly, trying to catch her breath. Ben held his hand out.

“Shall we?”

Bea snorted. “Very funny, Casanova. I need to catch my breath.”

“Slow songs are good for that.” He took her hands and guided her arms towards his shoulders, then let his own drop her waist. She sighed, resigned, and wrapped her arms around his neck. She grimaced.

“Gross, you’re all sweaty,” She complained.

“You’re not exactly fresh as a daisy yourself,” He replied, wrinkling his nose. “It’s one dance with your husband. Humor me.”

She tried to come up with a witty retort, but any further protests died on her tongue. She swayed with him, silently praying that if he noticed how red she’d turned, he’d assume it was from the earlier dancing.

“Hey, Bea… I’m sorry about this whole marriage thing.”

“It’s not like it’s all your fault,” She shrugged him off, “It takes two to get married.”

“Yeah, but if I had any idea how you really felt –”

Bea stilled in his arms, snapping to attention.

“Excuse me?”

“I had no idea you felt that way about me,” He repeated. “I mean, if I’m being honest, I had _hoped_ –”

“You had? Wait.” Bea shook her head, as though trying to clear it out, “Hold on. This is a lot of information coming at me at once. What exactly are you talking about?”

Now it was Ben who froze, dropping his hands from her waist, uncertainty clouding his eyes.

“I overheard the guys talking, awhile back. They said… that you loved me. They said you were pushing for the divorce because you only wanted to be with me if it was for real.”

“No,” Bea said slowly, taking a step back, “you have it backwards. _I_ overheard the girls saying _you_ were in love with _me_ , and the reason you were dragging your feet with the divorce papers is because you thought it was the only way you could be with me.”

“What?” Ben wrinkled his nose. “So… what they said wasn’t true?”

“It… wasn’t entirely _false_. But it wasn’t entirely true, either! I mean, that’s not why I was pushing for the divorce, and _love_ is a really strong word and I’m not sure how I feel about that and –”

“Beatrice.” Ben sounded serious now, eyes dark. Bea looked up at him, and Ben wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her look so vulnerable before. “Do you have feelings for me, yes or no.”

“What happens if I say yes?”

“Then I kiss you.”

“What happens if I say no?”

“Then we spend six months to a year getting over the awkwardness, then carry on live we always have – acting like we hate each other, arguing until we lose our voices or the others get sick of us, whichever happens first.”

“What if I refuse to answer?” Bea asked. “What about the part where we’ve tried this before? What about the part where we hurt each other?”

“That was a long time ago, Bea,” He looked at her so earnestly, so full of hope, that it made her stomach twist.

“I have to go,” She said, wishing the floor would open up and swallow her whole. “I can’t – I can’t do this.” She turned, bending to grab her shoes as she left the dance floor. She paused when she reached the door and gripped the banister, willing herself not to turn around. If Ben was still watching her, she couldn’t trust herself not to run back and kiss him. If he wasn’t still watching her – well, then, she couldn’t trust herself not to crumple right there on the stairs. So she left, and she didn’t turn back.

-

The next time they saw each other was Claudio and Hero’s engagement party, a few months later. Hero’s parents had hosted, and Bea and Hero had spent all morning with them, transforming the backyard into a fairy tale setting.

“Yet another reason why marriage is dumb,” Bea complained from the top of a ladder, hanging an enormous banner that read ‘CONGRATULATIONS’ across the back of the house, “you waste so much money on all the parties! Engagement parties, bridal showers, bachelor-slash-bachelorette parties, then the actual wedding itself – why not just buy a house with all that money? Or a car, or put it into savings?”

“No one’s listening to you, sweetheart,” Aunt Olivia called across the yard pleasantly.

“Yeah, no anti-marriage talk today,” Aunt Viola added. “Today is all about celebrating love!”

“Fine,” Beatrice surrendered, “but I expect you all to throw me a Spinster Party of this same standard when I acquire my thirtieth cat.” Hero beamed up at her, holding the ladder steady.

“Deal,” she said.

-

Benedick showed up with Meg about forty minutes into the party, looking positively miserable. Bea noticed him and immediately busied herself with refreshing all the snacks, disappearing into the kitchen. She was in such a panic that she barely even registered Claudio standing by the back door with Pedro, looking sullen and brooding.

She stayed safely in the kitchen until Meg and Ursula intruded, looking at her disapprovingly.

“You’re avoiding him,” Ursula accused.

“Avoiding who?” Beatrice asked innocently, averting her gaze, “I’m not avoiding anyone. I’m just very busy hosting this party. Too busy to personally greet every guest. Waaay too busy to be avoiding people.”

“What even _happened_ at the premiere?” Meg demanded. “It looked like things were going so well, then you just up and left out of nowhere. Anytime I try and ask Ben about it, he changes the subject.”

“Wait - do you hear that?” Ursula frowned, tilting her head towards the screen door. Bea and Meg fell quiet, straining to listen as well. “Is that Claudio?”

That was all she had to say. Beatrice ran, the others hot on her heels, spilling out into the yard just in time to hear Claudio yell _“you bitch!”_ and throw his drink onto Hero.

“Claudio!” She shrieked. Beatrice sprinted towards them, pushing her way past the cluster of people who’d circled up around them, thrusting herself between the two of them.

“What the fuck?!” She shouted, eyes burning.

“Don’t try and protect her!” Claudio snapped, “she’s the one who cheated on me!”

“Pedro, _do_ something!” Bea demanded, but he stood his ground at Claudio’s side.

“She’s the one who fucked this up, not him,” He said stoically, “She’s not the person you think she is.”

“You promised it was only ever going to be me!” Claudio reached around Bea and grabbed Hero’s wrist, twisting it backwards and pulling the ring from her finger. “You made a promise to me and you broke it!”

“Claudio,” Hero whimpered, shoulders shaking, “Please –”

“Everyone should know the real you!”

“Don’t you fucking touch her!” Bea jerked his hand away from Hero’s wrist and wrapped her arms around her shoulders, guiding her away. “Come on, Hero.”

“Slut!” Claudio shouted after them.

Beatrice turned, just in time to see Ben’s fist collide with Claudio’s jaw. He staggered backwards, gaping at Ben, who looked like he was ready to take another swing.

“I called the police!” Aunt Olivia shouted, and for a moment, everything ceased. She addressed the whole party, but she kept her eyes locked on Claudio. “I suggest you all get the hell off of my property. This party is over.”

-

Hours later, Beatrice sat on the back steps, eyes red and hair thoroughly mussed. She stared catatonic into the yard, which was still as pretty as a picture. No one ever would’ve guessed anything had gone wrong, had they not been present.

“Hey.” Ben sat on the steps beside her, tie loosened, looking every bit as exhausted as Bea.

“Hey,” She said, surprised, “I thought you left.”

“Someone had to stay and talk to the police,” He shrugged. “Is Hero okay?”

“Not really.” She blinked back tears. “She’s up in her old room with the aunties. I was up there for a bit, too, but I can’t stand to see her like this.”

“What about you?” He nudged her knee with his own, “Are you okay?”

“Just peachy,” She ground out. She clenched her fists at her sides, knuckles going white. “I’m going to kill him. I’m going to rip his heart out, same as he did to Hero, and I’m going to make him watch while I eat it.”

“I love you,” said Ben.

Beatrice turned, letting her eyes meet his for the first time all day.

“Prove it,” she said. “Kill Claudio.”

“I like your plan better. The whole heart eating thing is much better than anything I could come up with.” He ran his hand through his hair, and Bea gasped.

“Your hand,” she said, already reaching for it, “it’s covered in blood.”

“Huh,” He glanced at it, as if noticing for the first time. “It’s Claudio’s, not mine.”

“Good. I hate him.” Beatrice dumped her glass of water onto his hand and reached for a discarded napkin, wiping his knuckles clean. “Pedro, too. I’ll kill them both.”

“I think Balthy has that one covered, actually,” Ben let out a short laugh, “I heard him giving Pedro an earful earlier. He wouldn’t even let him get in the car with him – told him to get a ride with Claudio, because he couldn’t stand look at him after what he did.”

“Good,” Bea said, ghost of a smile catching her lips.

“They’ll work through it, probably. Being the Paragon of Paramours, and all.”

“I know,” Bea said, “I’m just glad Balthazar’s on our side, is all.” She paused, locking eyes with Ben again. “She didn’t do it, you know.”

“Come on, Bea. I know that.” Said Ben. “But just so you know, even if she had –”

“She didn’t,” Bea said fiercely.

“I know,” He repeated, “but even if she _did_ – Claud was out of line. He was an ass. I still would’ve punched him, even if he was telling the truth.”

Bea nodded.

“Thanks,” she said. Her gaze drifted towards the lawn. Reluctantly, she stood. “I should clean this all up. Burn it or something.”

“Bea,” he caught her hand in his, “I love you.”

“Yeah,” She bit her lip, “You said that.”

“And I brought the divorce papers. Signed and everything.” He reached into his coat pocket and produced an envelope, a little wrinkled but no worse for the wear. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“You love me, but you’re divorcing me,” She noted wryly, their fingers brushing together as she took the envelope.

“I love you, and that’s _why_ I’m divorcing you,” He corrected. “ _Our_ marriage was kind of a sham, and for the record, I do still think weddings are stupid… but I’m beginning to rethink my stance on the whole relationship thing. Whether it’s legally binding or not, commitment isn’t stupid or scary or impossible. So I signed the papers. Because I don’t want it to be a sham, when I have it. If I have it.”

Bea turned the envelope over in her hands and looked down at Ben, the corners of her lips turning upwards.

“I love you, too,” She said.

Ben smiled.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

-

The divorce was finalized a month later, just weeks away from their would-be anniversary. They invited their friends to the courthouse, where they popped champagne to celebrate when they were pronounced ex-husband and wife. With Hero’s permission, they even extended an offer to Pedro, who – to his credit – had been doing his best to make amends. They held a reception at Ben’s apartment afterwards – Hero baked them a three-tiered divorce cake, and Meg tied cans to the back of Ben’s car and wrote _JUST DIVORCED_ on the rear windshield. Balthazar brought his guitar and serenaded them with anti-love songs.

“Who knew divorce could be so romantic?” Ben asked, pulling Bea close and kissing her.

“It really has a way of bringing people together,” she agreed.

“What do you say – marry me again just so we can do it all again next year?”

“I don’t think so,” She laughed, “Marrying you once was enough.”

“Then what do you say to just spending the rest of your life living in sin with me?”

Bea dragged her finger through the frosting on the cake.

“Yeah,” She smiled, laughing as she smeared the frosting across Ben’s cheek, “that sounds like something I could do.”


	8. Soulmates AU

Beatrice had always considered herself lucky – she couldn’t remember a time in her life when she didn’t know who her soulmate was. She’d been seeing Hero in her dreams for as far back as she could remember – way before she even fully understood what the concept of _soulmates_ was. And she loved it – she and Hero had always lived far apart, except for those summers they spent together – but all she had to do was go to sleep, and they’d be together again.

From what she’d gathered from other peoples descriptions, everyone’s dreamscapes were a little bit different – but something that seemed universal was you didn’t necessarily have to spend every dreaming moment with your soulmate. You could, if you wanted to – but you were also free to roam around on your lonesome. You couldn’t control your dreams, and you weren’t protected from nightmares – but you could control _yourself_ , and nightmares weren’t nearly as bad if you were experiencing them with your soulmate.

So Beatrice had always counted herself lucky. There was never any searching to be done, never anything to wonder about – she had a built-in soulmate from the minute she first met Hero, when they were both still too young to even talk.

She hadn’t even known it was _possible_ to have more than one soulmate until she met Ben.

There wasn’t some big moment when they met – there weren’t fireworks, there wasn’t a choir of angels, there wasn’t a spark when they accidentally brushed shoulders. There wasn’t anything to suggest the moment she met Ben was anything outside of the ordinary. But when she fell asleep that night, it wasn’t Hero who she found in her dreamscape. It was Ben.

They were both surprised to see the other. Ben had never experienced a soulmate before, so it was his first time ever sharing a dreamscape. Beatrice was an old pro, at that point, so she walked him through the basics and answered all of his questions.

For most of the summer, it was great. Bea couldn’t really control which soulmate she’d wind up seeing when she fell asleep, but her subconscious did a pretty good job of evenly splitting time between the both of them. Sometimes, it was just a matter of who was having the more intense dream. She and Ben seemed to have come to a silent agreement not to tell anyone other than Hero that they were soulmates – it was nice, having it be their secret thing. Beatrice especially loved it – she went from having one built in best friend to two.

At the end of the summer, a few days before Beatrice left, she went to the beach with Ben and Pedro, and Pedro started talking about soulmates.

“Does it ever bum you out that your soulmate is your cousin?” He asked.

“No – why would it?” Beatrice frowned, “I love that Hero’s my soulmate, it’s the best.”

“Yeah, but it makes finding the person you’re supposed to be with that much harder,” He said. “Don’t you ever feel ripped off, or wish that your soulmate was someone _not_ related to you?”

“That wouldn’t even matter. Soulmates aren’t always romantic,” She argued.

“But they _usually_ are,” He said. “ _My_ parents are soulmates. _Your_ parents are soulmates. _Hero’s_ parents are soulmates.”

“Mine weren’t,” Ben interrupted, “my mum’s soulmate is my gram.”

“I’m saying _most_ soulmates,” Pedro explained. “ _Most_ soulmates are romantic.”

“Well that’s stupid,” Ben announced, “soulmates are stupid.”

Beatrice recoiled, as though she’d been slapped.

“So what, I’m going to get a soulmate, and that’s it? I’m trapped into marrying them unless we’re _related_ just because of some stupid _dreams_ we share?” He went on, “That’s ridiculous.”

“The dreams aren’t stupid,” Beatrice snapped, “and it’s not _just_ dreams, it’s sharing your whole subconscious. That’s not the same thing.”

“What if you meet your soulmate and they’re a crappy person? You’re supposed to suck it up and force yourself to love them anyway?” Ben scoffed. “It’s completely unnatural. It’s practically an arranged marriage, only _worse_. At least people’s parents usually put thought into arranged marriages. Soulmates are like some huge cosmic _mistake._ ”

Bea could feel tears stinging her eyes, and she jumped to her feet – she would not, would absolutely _not_ , let Pedro or Ben see her cry. Especially not over this.

“You’re a jerk,” She spat, and she stormed off.

-

She spent the rest of the day dreading sleep. She tried to convince Hero to stay up with her all night, but it didn’t work.

“We don’t have to stay up all night,” Hero reminded her, “we’re going to see each other when we fall asleep, anyway.”

“It _better_ be you that I see when I fall asleep tonight,” Beatrice grumbled.

“Why? I thought you said you liked sharing the dreamscape with Ben.”

“Not anymore,” she said, fists clenched so tightly that her nails left half-moon marks on her palm.

Thankfully, when she fell asleep that night, it _was_ Hero that she wound up seeing. She tried to press her for more details about what had happened with Ben, but Beatrice refused to say anything more on the subject.

-

She didn’t wind up seeing Ben in her dreams for another week, when she was already back in Wellington. She knew, immediately, that it was the one she shared with him, not Hero, because the dreamscapes looked so different. With Hero, their shared dreamscape was a clearing in a forest. With Ben, it was by an ocean. He was already there, and already walking towards her.

“Hey, Bea,” He greeted, like nothing in the world was wrong, “long time no see.”

“We are not talking,” she informed him, “from now on, when we’re in each other’s dreams, we are ignoring each other.”

“Why?” Ben frowned, genuinely confused.

“Why? _Why?_ ” Bea sputtered, rage building inside of her. “Because you aren’t my soulmate, dickface. _Hero_ is. She’s my soulmate. And whatever’s happening here with us – _whatever_ we are is just a _‘huge cosmic_ _mistake’._ ”

“So you’re just going to ignore me for the rest of our lives?” He shouted after her as she went, voice rising, “Gonna be pretty hard to do, _since we share a subconscious!_ ”

She flipped him off over her shoulder, refusing to look back.

-

Of course, he was right – she couldn’t exactly ignore him forever. The times she wasn’t sharing dreams with Hero, she was sharing them with him, and though the dreamscapes were expansive, you couldn’t always escape your soulmate. But it didn’t take long for Ben to start ignoring Bea right back – and when they did interact, they always fought.

She didn’t tell him she was moving, so when he went to Leo’s to talk about practice and he saw her sitting in the kitchen re-reading _Frankenstein_ , he was caught completely off-guard.

“Am I dreaming?” He asked, “I don’t remember falling asleep.”

Bea reached out and pinched his arm, just above his elbow. He yelped and jumped back, rubbing his arm.

“Get back, you harpy!” He cried, “what the hell is your problem?”

“Guess you’re not dreaming,” she shrugged, and she went upstairs.

-

It didn’t change their relationship much at all, her moving to Auckland. Now they just argued or avoided each other during the day, in addition to at night.

-

“Hey,” she asked Pedro one day, when they were working on their biology homework, “have you met your soulmate yet?”

“Yeah,” he said warily, “I have.” Bea waited for him to tell her more, but he didn’t say anything, just kept his eyes glued to his paper.

“Well?” She prompted, “Is it someone that I know?”

“Uh, yeah, actually,” He nodded, “it’s Balthazar.”

“Really?” Bea leaned back, pleasantly surprised. “See? I told you soulmates aren’t always romantic. You can totally have a non-related platonic soulmate.”

“Yep,” Pedro agreed, refusing to lift his gaze to meet hers, “totally platonic.”

-

One night, Bea had an awful nightmare involving her parents and a plane crash. Even though she knew it was a dream, she couldn’t help the panic that set in – it just felt so real, the flames getting higher and hotter and sweeping across everything.

“Bea!” Ben was suddenly right there with her, “Bea, it’s okay, we’re just dreaming. Think about something else – it’ll go away.”

It was pretty good advice, actually. Since the dreamscapes were basically a playground for your subconscious, it was highly subjectable to whatever whims crossed your mind. Like the flowers that bloomed wherever Hero stepped, or why when Bea had a fleeting thought about a giraffe last week, a herd of them had suddenly appeared in the dream.

Apparently Ben had been thinking of birds when he found her, because the next thing she knew, they were riding on the back of an enormous winged creature being whisked away to safety.

“Are you okay?” He asked, and she couldn’t stand how compassionate he was being, how genuinely caring. It was so much worse than when he was mean. She couldn’t bring herself to respond, so she woke herself up instead, jumping off of the bird and letting herself fall.

-

She woke up with a start just before her dreamself hit the ground. She crept down the hall and into Hero’s room, shaking her awake.

“I hate sharing my dreams with him,” she said, “I’d rather stand naked in front of him for ten minutes than share a subconscious space with him for five. I hate that he knows my nightmares.”

“I’m sorry,” Hero yawned and moved over, gesturing for Bea to crawl in with her, “that’s awful.”

“I just know that he’s judging me over them,” Bea grumbled, yanking the blankets back up over them, “but he has nightmares, too! I’ve experienced them! And they’re almost exclusively about zombies.”

“Really?” Hero asked, a giggle escaping her lips, “zombie nightmares?”

“All the time,” Beatrice confirmed, “that boy watches too many horror movies.”

“Sometimes I wish I had another soulmate,” Hero whispered, “in addition to you, obviously. I wouldn’t trade you for anyone.”

“You can have Ben, if you want.”

“No thanks,” Hero laughed, “you’re better suited to handle him. I meant someone else.”

“Who?” Bea asked, propping herself up on her elbow. “Oooh, wait, I know. You’re talking about Claudio.”

“I mean, it’s okay that we’re not,” Hero said quickly, “I mean, obviously I know people fall in love with people who aren’t their soulmates all the time. But what if – what if _his_ soulmate _is_ a romantic one? Obviously it isn’t me, so –”

“I don’t mean to sound unsympathetic, but you’re kind of putting the cart before the horse here, Hero,” Bea interrupted. “You two aren’t even dating yet – and yes, I said _yet_ , because it’s only a matter of time. It’s a little early to be worrying about him leaving you for his potentially romantic soulmate who he hasn’t even met yet, as far as we know. I mean, come on. He could be like Ursula and his soulmate could be his grandpa, for all we know. Don’t worry about it.”

“That’s true,” Hero sighed wistfully, “I just think it would probably be nice, to see what he dreams.”

“Yuck,” Beatrice gagged, “I’ll take your dreams over some dumb guy’s any day.”

“Don’t be jealous, Bea,” Hero teased, hooking her arm through Bea’s, “I like your dreams, too.”

-

“Do you think the dreamscapes are ever wrong?” Bea asked, sprawled out across Ursula’s bed, watching her edit the footage from Pedro’s party.

“How do you mean?” Ursula asked, not looking up from her computer.

“I mean like… do you think it’s possible to share a dreamscape with someone who is not actually your soulmate,” She re-phrased, rolling over so she was on her stomach. “Is it possible that it’s actual some big cosmic mistake, basically.”

“Do you think it’s a cosmic mistake to have Hero as your soulmate?” Ursula asked.

“ _No_ ,” Beatrice said, “no way, no. Hero’s most definitely my soulmate. The only soulmate I’d ever want. I was just thinking out loud. What if there were soulmates who actually completely, aggressively hated each other?”

“Then I would suggest that there are some stronger feelings that should be addressed,” Ursula said, pulling up youtube and uploading the video. She spun her chair around so she was facing Bea. “Because when it comes to soulmates, there are no mistakes.”

-

Claudio and Hero started dating a few days later.

“Has he met his soulmate yet?” Bea asked, when they were in their shared subconscious that night. She was dreaming that she was a mermaid, lounging in a lagoon. Hero was dreaming that she had wings, and they fluttered absently as she sat on a nearby rock, toes in the water.

“No,” She said, “but he told me the most romantic thing. He said it doesn’t matter what fate or dreamscapes say – that we may not share dreams, but we’re still every bit as much soulmates. He said I’m his and he’s mine.”

“Ugh,” Bea slapped her tail against the water, splashing her giggling cousin, “gross.”

-

She googled ‘multiple soulmates’ in the school library during lunch the next day. She had yet to actually meet someone else who had more than one. Apparently, it was decently uncommon – only one in every thousand people or so had more than one soulmate. (The record for the most soulmates was seven, which made Bea shudder. She couldn’t imagine splitting your subconscious seven ways. That was basically Voldemort, if all his horcruxes were people.)

“Multiple soulmates, huh?” Meg asked, and Bea jumped – she hadn’t even heard her approach.

“It’s for one of my classes,” She lied, “I’m doing a research paper.”

“My dad has two soulmates,” Meg told her, pulling up the chair next to her. “One of his old roommates from Uni, and my Auntie. Well, she’s not actually related – but he’s known her since kindergarten, so she may as well be.”

“Really?” Bea asked. She felt immediately validated – not only did Meg’s father also have two soulmates, he had two non-romantic ones. (Although, she considered, he probably did not hate either of his soulmates with the fire of a thousand suns. That much was still a bust.) “Have you met your soulmate yet?”

“Nah,” Meg shook her head, “but I’m not stressing over it. My mum still hasn’t met hers, either. I think some people just don’t have them. Or maybe they’re on the other side of the world, and the chances of you meeting them are really slim. There are a million possibilities. Maybe we all have ten soulmates, but there’s just no plausible way we could possibly meet them all.”

“Two is overwhelming enough, never mind _ten,_ ” Beatrice grimaced. Meg quirked her brow.

“Speaking from experience?” She asked. Bea paled.

“I was talking about your dad,” She said, and turned back to the computer.

-

Hero’s dreams were becoming sickeningly sweet, and increasingly involved Claudio riding in on horseback. She was almost starting to prefer the nights in her and Ben’s dreamscape, and that was really saying something. At least arguing with him kept her on her toes. Sometimes it was even fun, before one of them inevitably crossed a line and they snapped back into their old routine.

-

Or at least, it _used_ to be that way, until he started getting supremely weird on her a few weeks later. One night when she was in the middle of a perfectly lovely dream involving Benedict Cumberbatch, it started raining olives. Benedict disappeared, and suddenly Ben was standing there, holding an umbrella.

“Why are you dreaming about this?” She frowned, ducking under the umbrella with him. The olives thumped against it and rolled away, pooling at their feet.

“No reason,” He said, cheeks reddening.

-

Two weeks after that – two weeks of Ben continuing to be increasingly weird, both in dreams in reality – she overheard the girls, talking about his feelings for her, and immediately, all of his behavior made sense. She didn’t feel comfortable sharing dreams with Ben _or_ Hero after that. She couldn’t even stand being near Ben – it made her palms sweat and her stomach flip and her brain turn to complete mush, and she was completely unable and unwilling to fully process what it all might mean. And she didn’t trust herself not to confront Hero, not to confide in her about the strangeness of it all.

She dreamed with Hero that night, about climbing trees so tall they wound up sitting in the clouds. She wanted so badly to turn the clock back, to before she knew about Ben’s feelings, or before she moved to Auckland, or better still, to before she’d ever even _met_ Ben, so she could avoid all of this.

“I miss when the dreamscapes were just us,” She said, tugging off a piece of cloud, which – in this dream – was made of cotton candy. “Everything was better back then.” What she didn’t say was that by _better_ , she meant _easier._

“You must have good dreams with Ben _sometimes_.” Hero brushed her fingers across a patch of leaves and they all turned to butterflies, immediately carried away on the breeze. “It can’t all be awful _all_ the time.”

“It _is_ ,” Bea insisted. She didn’t mention that the week before, Ben had dreamed that their physics class was taught by a flamingo, and she’d laughed so hard she’d woken herself up. She didn’t tell her that two days ago, he’d dreamed about tigers and sharks hurling mangoes at each other, and she’d been so delighted, she joined in. There was no way she could tell Hero the truth, that maybe Ben wasn’t all bad, knowing what she knew now. She bit down on the cotton candy cloud, letting it dissolve on her tongue. “They’re all awful.”

-

Ben leaned across his desk and tapped his pencil against Bea’s physics textbook. She jerked her head up and frowned at him.

“I’m not telling you the answer until you at least _try_ solving the problem,” She said.

“I’ve _been_ trying, for the record. This problem is unsolvable. But that’s not what I wanted to ask.” He flipped her book shut. She huffed in annoyance, opening it back up. “What’s your opinion on John?”

“John who? Pedro’s brother John?” She wrinkled her nose. “My opinion of him is no opinion. Why?”

“Well, it’s just that your Aunts and Pedro’s family go way back, and you and _Pedro_ are close, so I was just wondering.” Ben shrugged. “I was at Pedro’s the other day, he hung out with us for a bit after I dropped Claud off. Did you know his mum was his soulmate?”

“He told you that?” Bea asked, surprised.

“Pedro did,” Ben clarified, “after John left.”

“No, I didn’t know,” She said. She held up a finger and jotted something down on her paper, then looked back up at Ben. “All I really know about John is that he’s a loner and he likes it that way. And that he and Pedro are approximately nothing alike.”

“Do you think he’s trustworthy? Like, if you were on a sinking ship and he told you there weren’t any lifeboats left, would you believe him? Or would you check for yourself?”

“Jesus, Ben, I don’t know,” The bell rang and Bea slammed her book shut, stuffing it into her backpack. “What’s with the sudden interest in him, anyway?”

“It’s nothing,” Ben said, “forget I said anything.”

“Whatever,” She rolled her eyes, “I have to get to my next class.”

“See you in our dreams,” He said, tapping her desk.

“They’re more like nightmares when they’re with you,” She scoffed, deliberately ignoring the way her heart started to beat just a little faster.

-

On Hero’s birthday, she woke up to find Leo making eggs and Beatrice piling whipped cream on top of a plate of waffles.

“Good morning,” Hero greeted, and Beatrice turned around so quickly, she smeared whipped cream across her shirt.

“No!” She cried, “March your beautiful self back up to your room immediately! We woke up this early _specifically_ so you could be surprised by breakfast in bed!”

“You were going to bring me breakfast in bed? That’s so sweet,” She gushed, taking a seat at the table.

“I told her we’d need to wake up even earlier, but she wouldn’t listen.” Leo pushed a full plate in front of her, complete with a glass of orange juice and a steaming cup of tea, grinning. “Happy birthday, Hero.”

“What time is Claudio coming over?” Beatrice asked. “We’ve got a million strands of fairy lights that need untangling. We’re going to need an entire decorating committee.”

“He’s not coming early anymore,” Hero said, “his mum needed him to run some errands today. But he’ll be here for the start of the party.”

“Ugh, useless to me,” Beatrice threw her hands up, “I’d better get started untangling now, then. It’s going to take the rest of my life.”

“Let me help you,” Hero offered, “I should be the one decorating, anyway. It’s my party.”

“No way, Birthday Girl,” Leo put a hand on her shoulder to stop her from getting up, “it’s your party, so leave the obnoxious parts of decorating to us.”

“You two are the best,” Hero beamed, “I’m the luckiest girl in the world.”

-

When Claudio started yelling, when he grabbed Hero by the wrist, when Pedro said those things to her, Bea’s first thought was _we’re having a nightmare._ But she couldn’t make it go away, no matter how hard she pinched herself, no matter how much she wished they could be anywhere else. Claudio stormed out, then Pedro after him, and everyone else, one by one.

The party ended, but Ben stayed.

-

He slept on the couch that night, and she slept in Hero’s bed, curled tight against her and holding her hand. Hero cried with her whole body, shaking all over.

“He said he loved me,” she sobbed, “why would he do this to me?”

“I don’t know,” Bea replied, numb. She ran a hand up and down Hero’s back, pressed her chin to Hero’s shoulder. _I will kill him_ , she thought.

-

Hero’s nightmares after that were unbearably awful. In one, black smoke from her birthday candles filled the room and made her choke. In another, Claudio’s hand around her wrist left searing burns, and the ribbons from her presents wrapped themselves around her until she couldn’t breathe. In another, he piled stones onto her chest, leaving her gasping for air. Every night, Bea would force herself awake and run to Hero’s room, waking her and comforting her, counting backwards until she could breathe normally again. There was no relief for either of them, even in sleep.

-

Meg was waiting for her outside the front of the school when she arrived that Monday, two coffees in hand. She was wearing sunglasses and dark lipstick – her man-eater lipstick, she’d called it once, the color she wore when she needed extra strength to deal with the ‘simple, stupid boys in her life’. Make up wasn’t Bea’s thing, but she admired the tactic. It reminded her of war paint.

“How’s our girl doing?” She asked, pressing a coffee into Bea’s hands.

“She’s okay,” Bea said, surprised, “I kind of thought you’d be mad at her, because of what Claudio said. About Robbie.”

“Oh, please,” Meg scoffed, “I know Hero. I’ve known Hero _forever_. I have a pretty good grasp on what she would and wouldn’t do, and she definitely would never do this.” She took a long sip of her drink. “I did dump Robbie, though. For real this time.”

Bea caught her in an embrace so tight, she nearly spilled the coffee. Meg gave her a tiny squeeze and then peeled away, tilting Bea’s chin up.

“Now,” She said, “I may be the Queen, but _you_ are the War General. What’s the plan, babes?”

“Damage control, I guess,” Bea shrugged, and took a sip of coffee. “And then a human sacrifice, maybe. I’ll start with Pedro, then Robbie, and work my way up to Claudio.”

Meg finished off her coffee, a dark red lip stain around the rim.

“Leave Robbie to me,” She said, and she tossed the cup into the trash can. She hooked her arm through Bea’s and pulled her in close. “Into the lion’s den we go.”

-

At lunch, Bea noticed that Balthazar was sitting with some kids from his music class. She didn’t know whether to be pleased he wasn’t sitting with Pedro and Claud, or pissed that he wasn’t pledging his allegiance to Hero. In the end, she decided she couldn’t fault him for not wanting to get involved.

She fell in step with him when the lunch bell rang, following him to his next class.

“You look like hell,” she said, by way of greeting. He really did. There were bags under his eyes, and he looked like he was in a complete daze.

“Haven’t been sleeping well,” He admitted. “I don’t really feel quite up to seeing Pedro, after what happened at the party. Not yet. Which means staying awake most of the night.”

“Good,” Bea said, clearly pleased, “I feel bad you have to share a subconscious with such a garbage person. I feel sorry for you.” Balthazar winced.

“It’s a lot more complicated than that,” He said. “It’s not so black and white, you know?” Bea just shrugged.

“Whatever you say.”

“I’m working on a song for Hero,” he said.

She wanted to make a snide comment, to say _a song isn’t going to fix the mess your soulmate helped cause_ , but she stopped herself. Balthazar wasn’t the enemy. He was just caught in the middle.

“I’ll tell her,” she said, instead. “I think she’ll really like that.”

-

When she came home from school, she found Hero curled up in her bed, nose buried in a book. She sat on the edge, gently lifting Hero’s feet and tucking them onto her lap. Hero watched her for a moment before dog-earring her page and setting the book aside.

“Leo’s mad at me,” She said quietly. “He’s been on the phone, fighting with Mum’s, since this morning.”

“I’ll kill him too,” Beatrice said tiredly, leaning back against the wall and shutting her eyes, “add him to my list.”

“I’m not going to school for a while,” Hero went on. “Mumma said I didn’t have to. They’re going to get me a private tutor. They’ve already spoken to my teachers and everything. Mum was pretty against it, at first, but… it’s what I want.”

“For how long?”

“At least until spring holidays,” Hero said, “so just for a month or so. Then we’ll discuss the option of going back to Messina.”

Bea didn’t say anything. It sounded appealing, just dropping out of life and flying under the radar for a while.

“I won’t go back there,” Hero went on, determined, “not right now, anyway. Everything is too – raw, right now. I don’t want to look at anybody.”

Bea remained silent. Hero bit her lip.

“Leo says I’m being stupid,” She confessed. “You’re my soulmate. What do _you_ think?”

“I think,” Beatrice said slowly, “that if this is what you need to do, it’s what you need to do. Fuck what Leo or anybody else thinks.”

That, at least, made Hero smile.

-

She started spending more and more time at Ben’s house. Whenever Bea tried to talk to Hero about the party, she would clam up and busy herself with anything else. And when she wasn’t having nightmares, her dreams were still tinged with sadness. So she went to Ben’s, because he was one of the few people she could stand to be around.

“How’s Hero?” He asked, as she draped herself across his bed, burying her face in his pillow.

“Bad,” She replied, rolling onto her side to face him, “Sad. I wish she would get angry about it. Angry is better than sad, at least.”

“You haven’t been in the dreamscape since the party,” He told her, as if she needed to be reminded. “It’s kind of lonely, not having you in my head.”

“She needs me more,” She defended. She thought about how Hero wouldn’t talk about the party, wouldn’t listen if she even mentioned Claudio’s name. Then she thought about Hero in the dreamscapes, having nightmares where she couldn’t breathe, or dreams where Claudio came crawling back. “At least… Dream Hero does.”

“I know.” He sat cross-legged on the end of his bed. “I was just saying. I miss you.”

She sat up and mirrored his movements, sitting directly in front of him so their knees were touching.

“I’m right here.”

“I know,” he said, voice soft, “but you seem far away.”

“I’m just tired.” She let her head drop, chin tucked into her chest. “Tired and sad and angry. Tired of being sad and angry.”

“There’s a tea for that,” he said seriously, which earned him a weary smile. “I’ll make us some.”

When he came back, Bea was fast asleep on his bed. Careful not to wake her, he set down the steaming mugs on his desk and stretched out beside her, asleep within minutes.

-

“I didn’t realize I fell asleep,” Bea said, surprised, when he showed up in the dreamscape a few moments after her. Realization dawned on her, and she winced. “Oh, man, this means I’m sleeping in your bed right now. That’s like, hugely invasive.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ben shrugged, “I’m asleep too, clearly. So it’s fine. We’re sleeping together.”

Bea raised her brow at the implication, bemused smile on her lips.

“Not like that, obviously!” He cried, turning red, “I mean, clearly we’re both literally asleep right now. Fully clothed and dreaming. Obviously, I didn’t mean that we were –”

“I know what you meant,” Bea rolled her eyes, “we’re both _here,_ aren’t we?”

“Right,” He shuffled awkwardly. Bea walked passed him, over to an enormous tree dotted with unripe mangoes.

“I missed our dreamscape,” She said, and when she touched the tree the mangoes grew and ripened rapidly, until the tree was full of them, and one dropped perfectly into her waiting hands.

“You missed a great dream last night,” Ben grinned, “it involved sloths and ukuleles.”

“That sounds truly bizarre,” Bea laughed, “and I envy it. Hero’s dreams are so awful. We stay awake until we fall asleep standing up, and then it’s like she’s perpetually reliving her birthday party. I want to rip his stupid heart out for doing this to her.”

“It would be a fitting punishment,” Ben said, recoiling as he watched Bea, who squeezed the mango so hard her fingers punctured it and the juice leaked out the sides.

“I actually did it, in one of the dreams,” she said, throwing the mango aside. “And then I ate it. It was fucked up.”

“You’re terrifying,” He said, glowing with admiration, “terrifying and _amazing_. It’s why I love you.”

Immediately, she froze.

“You love me?” She repeated. “You, Ben _Soulmates-are-a-Cosmic-Mistake_ Hobbes – you _love_ me?”

“I know,” He sighed, “it’s so cliché, falling in love with your soulmate. But I couldn’t help it. Believe me, I tried.”

“I can’t,” She said, and it started to rain. In seconds, the dreamscape began to flood, already up to their ankles. “It’s not that I don’t feel that way too, because I _do_ –”

“You do?” He lit up like the sun, undeterred by the now shin-deep water. “Because I – I love you more than anything on earth, and probably deep space, too, though that’s just a guess – I’ve never been there. But I do. Isn’t that bizarre?”

“Not as bizarre as me reciprocating it.” She tried to scoff, but it came out a whimper. “But I can’t – I can’t act on that right now. Not with Hero… not with Hero how she is.”

The flood was up to their waists now.

“That’s why I’m telling you in the dreamscape,” Ben said, as the water grew deeper still, “because here, nothing is real. You don’t have to acknowledge it if you don’t want to. Everything that happens here – nightmares, dreams, all of it – goes away when we wake up.”

A lifeboat floated past, and Ben climbed in. He held his hand out to Beatrice.

“We’re going to help Hero, you and me, together. And whenever you’re ready to deal with our feelings in the real world… you just say the word.”

Bea took his hand, and he pulled her into the boat. The rain stopped when she held his face in her hands, and the sun started to peak out, glistening on the water.

“Thank you,” She murmured, and she kissed him.

-

It was a surprise, to say the least, to see Claudio and Pedro in his bedroom a few days later. It was easy enough to ignore them at first – everything they were saying was old news to him. Bea had already told him about Claud getting kick off the team, and about Leo’s sudden display of loyalty to Hero. What he _couldn’t_ believe was that they were at all surprised that Bea had chosen Hero over them.

“Hero’s her soulmate,” He frowned, looking up from his laundry, “you really think she’s _not_ going to be on her side? And even if they weren’t –”

“Touchy subject,” Pedro said, smirking at Claudio.

He was willing to ignore that – it wasn’t worth it, to be fighting with the two of them, especially if they were so unwilling to open their eyes to the situation. But when they started talking about Beatrice, about _him_ and Beatrice, his blood began to boil.

_“It’s not like you even like her.”_

_“She’s only with you because she pities you.”_

_“And for all we know, cheating runs in the family.”_

It made him so angry, so blind with rage that it burst from him before he could even think twice about it, or whether or not he wanted to tell them at all:

“She’s my soulmate!”

“She’s –” Claudio started to laugh, but it died on his lips when he saw how Ben was staring at them, eyes burning, jaw set. “What? No. Hero’s her soulmate.”

“So am I,” Ben muttered, turning back to the laundry, “she’s got two. Some people do.”

“How come you never said anything?” Pedro asked, the bitterness in his voice evident. He looked almost betrayed – and for a moment, Ben did feel a bit of sympathy. Before all of this had happened, Pedro was one of Bea’s best friends. He was definitely one of her _oldest_ friends, at any rate. “This whole time, since we were fourteen, and you never – what the fuck, man.”

“You see? Cheating probably _does_ run in the family,” Claudio said, “lying certainly seems to.”

And then Pedro laughed, and every ounce of sympathy Ben had been feeling a moment ago drained out of him.

“Get out.” He threw the door open and turned to them expectantly. “Just get out.”

Once they’d gone, he uploaded the video. Then he left a note for his mother saying they were no longer welcome.

-

The rumor about Hero’s death spread through the school like mad. In less than twenty-four hours, Hero’s facebook was flooded with posts written by people memorializing her, sending condolences, and tagging her in old pictures captioned with things like _I wish I had a chance to know you better_. She cried when she read them, shoving the laptop away like it burned.

“It’s okay, Hero, we’ll clear it up,” Bea promised, taking the laptop from her, “We’ll post a video or something. It’s just a stupid rumor.”

“It’s not that,” Hero said, “it’s that they’re being so nice, now. A week ago they were calling me awful names, and now they’re saying such lovely things about me. I had to _die_ for them to like me again.”

“Hold on,” Ben pulled Bea’s hand away from the keyboard, stopping her from posting the angry facebook status she’d been composing, “That gives me an idea.”

-

 **Text from Queen Margaret to Bea  
** your soulmate is looking for you ;)

 **Text from Bea! to Meg  
** hero? why didn’t she just text me herself? is she okay?

 **Text from Queen Margaret to Bea  
** your OTHER soulmate.

your SECRET soulmate.

 **Text from Bea! to Meg  
** …how do you know about that?

 **Text from Queen Margaret to Bea  
** i have my ways.

(pedro and claud were talking about it in class. not quietly. secrets out, babes.)

-

“It’s like everything just… _stops_.”

She kissed him – she couldn’t help herself. It was the first time she’d kissed him since the dreamscape, and the first time she’d ever kissed him in their waking hours. She’d wanted to for so long, and she was tired of being sad and angry, and Ben had been so wonderful and patient and stood by her side through it all, and she didn’t want to be sad anymore. And she _loved_ him – her stupid, cosmic mistake of a soulmate, she loved him – and she didn’t want to deny herself of that anymore.

“Does that mean…?” He asked. She nodded.

“Yeah,” she said, biting her lip to keep from grinning.

“And you sure? Because we can wait, if you want, until Hero’s better – I don’t mind, I’d – I’d wait for you forever, probably, so –”

“Cameras still on,” She reminded him, jerking her head towards where the tripod was set up. His gaze flickered towards it, and the corners of his lips turned upwards.

“I mean, I don’t actually like you, okay?”

She smirked, and pat his arm.

“Okay.”

-

Hero’s dreams started to get better after the vigil. When Beatrice fell asleep that night, Hero was already in their dreamscape, sitting on a patch of lush green grass, absently petting a rabbit that was sitting in her lap. 

“How was the talk you had with Claudio?” Bea asked, coming to sit by her.

“It was alright,” Hero said. The rabbit turned into a dog, who pressed their snout into Hero’s shoulder, and then it became a wolf. It licked her hand before running away. “I yelled. He cried. I cried. We talked for hours. He apologized, and I forgave him. I mean, we’re not back together or anything, but… we’re going to try and be friends.”

Beatrice scoffed and opened her mouth to comment, but Hero held up her hand.

“Before you say anything, Bea,” she warned, “just remember that this was my choice and no one else’s, and you should respect that.”

She immediately closed her mouth again. She ducked out of the way as a jellyfish bobbed past them, floating through the trees. Both girls laughed when they saw it.

“Why do you think people dream weird stuff like this?” Bea asked. She reached out to touch the jellyfish, and when her fingers made contact, it burst like a balloon and confetti exploded everywhere. “Like we’re in some kind of surrealist painting.”

“I don’t know,” Hero scooped up some of the confetti and threw it up into the air, where each one turned into a hummingbird and flew away, high up into the trees, “The mind is a strange place, I suppose.”

“Can I just say that if he fucks up again, it won’t just be in dreams that I kill him?” Bea asked, “Because he should know that. All it takes is one mistake, and I will be right there, ready to take him down.”

One of the hummingbirds buzzed next to Hero’s ear before landing on her finger. She looked over at Bea and smiled wide – her first genuine smile since the morning of her birthday, before everything had gone wrong.

“I’ll let him know.”

-

“Do you think her nightmares are gone for good?” Ben asked. They were crammed in his bath, which he insisted was the best place for snuggling, though so far it wasn’t exactly proving to be comfortable.

“She still has them sometimes,” Bea said, “but it’s only little bits of the dream, now. And it’s not every night anymore. The better she starts to feel, the easier they are to deal with.”

“Happy Endings all around,” Ben grinned, “Hero’s feeling better every day, John’s opening up, Balthazar and Pedro have finally seen sense and gotten together –”

“Did you see that one coming? Because I definitely didn’t,” Beatrice interrupted.

“To be fair, darling, I think we were a bit preoccupied with our own issues,” He said, “like our deep rooted denial, for instance. But look at us now, finally overcoming all of that, having a happy ending of our own.”

“Don’t say _happy ending_ ,” She made a face, “first of all, it’s too cliché, and second of all, it implies all of our stories are over, which is depressing and just plain inaccurate, given that we haven’t even graduated yet.”

“Happy beginnings, then,” He corrected.

“Much better,” She said, snuggling into his shoulder. “I’m so tired. All of this drama has thoroughly exhausted me.”

“Take a nap,” Ben suggested. “I’m pretty tired myself.”

“Okay.” She yawned, arching her back to try and stretch out, which proved to be much more difficult than you might think in a bathtub. “See you in our dreams?”

He kissed her forehead and settled back into the tub.

“See you there,” he grinned.


	9. Ghost/Living Person AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning for character death. (no descriptions of it, just mentions of it occurring.) if that upsets you, you may want to skip this one!

She read about his death in the paper – everybody did. And yes, of course it made her sad, but - high school had been quite a few years ago, now, and she’d only thought of him sparingly since then. Still, it was jarring, to hear that someone you knew – someone you dated, someone you once knew so intimately – was dead.

The phone calls and arrangements were made pretty rapidly – because of course she was going to the funeral, of course they’d all go to the funeral – and it was the first time they had been together (well, most of them – all but Ben, of course) since sometime after her first year of University. Flights were booked, plans were made, and by the end of the next day, she was back in Auckland, back at her Aunties’ house with Hero, and it felt so much like high school again that it almost made her nostalgic. Almost.

They all got piss drunk after the calling hours back at the Duke’s house, sitting around a bonfire in the backyard.

“Typical Ben,” Pedro said, equal parts sad and fond, “I mean, what kind of idiot stands up on a roller coaster?”

“I can’t believe this is real,” Meg murmured into her wine glass, “I keep expecting him to jump out and say ‘just kidding!’”

“It would be just like him to pull off a really elaborate ruse like this just to get us all together again,” Bea admitted, hugging her knees to her chest, “god forbid he just pick up the phone and call.”

“I tried to call you, a few times,” Ben said, from where he was suddenly sitting, cross-legged next to her, hovering just a few inches off the grass, “but I hung up after the first ring.”

Beatrice froze. She stared. Ben stared back.

“He did always have a flair for the dramatic,” Ursula sighed.

“Wait,” Ben said, eyes locked with Bea, “can you see me right now?”

“I…” Any coherent thoughts died on her lips. “Ben?”

“Yes, Ben,” Ursula frowned at her, “who else would I be talking about?”

“You can see me?” He was getting excited now, scrambling to his feet, “Beatrice! You can _hear_ me?”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” She said, and she threw up in the grass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part two: http://archiveofourown.org/works/2356100/chapters/5436047


	10. Ghost/Living Person AU (Part 2!)

Shortly after getting sick, Beatrice retreated back into the Duke household and locked herself in her old bedroom. She planted herself in front of the mirror, hands braced on her dresser.

“Get a grip, Beatrice,” She told herself through gritted teeth, “ _get a grip_. You’re drunk, you’re grieving, you’re hallucinating. Whatever just happened out there _was not real_.”

“Seemed pretty real to me,” Said Ben, as he passed straight through the locked door. “And as far as I can tell, you’re the only one. I just danced around the others for a full minute, screeching like a monkey, and they didn’t even look up.”

“This is not happening. Leave me alone!” She grabbed the first thing she could get her hands on – a jewelry box – and hurled it at Ben. It passed right through him. “What is _happening_ to me?”

“I don’t know,” Ben admitted, absently placing his hand on his stomach, where the jewelry box would’ve hit him, “but it’s freaking me out, too. You’re the first person who’s seen me. I’ve been dead for almost a week, and you’re the only one.”

“I’m dreaming,” Beatrice declared, “that’s what this is. I probably went to sleep hours ago, and this is my weird, drunken dream.”

“This feels pretty real to me,” Ben repeated, tentatively reaching out to touch her. His hand passed through her shoulder, and she shuddered.

“Don’t _do_ that,” She snapped, “it’s freaky!”

“Hey, I’m still trying to figure out this ghost thing,” He defended, “I don’t really know what I can and can’t do yet.”

“I’m going to bed,” She said, crawling under the blankets, “or rather, I’m definitely already in bed, and having the most fucked up dreams of my life. So I’m going to sleep and when I wake up in the morning, you will be _gone_ , and this will be nothing but a weird story to tell the others.”

“Going to be an awfully boring few hours for me,” Ben sighed, disappointed, “ghosts don’t sleep.”

“Ghosts don’t _exist_ ,” She corrected. “So _goodnight_ , Not-Ben.”

“Night, Bea,” He said, far too brightly for Bea’s liking. She grumbled something under her breath and rolled away from him, turning out the light.

-

When she woke up, her room was blessedly Ben-free. She let out a sigh of relief, reassured it had all been a dream, and made her way downstairs, where she could hear some of the others already milling about, having breakfast.

“There she is,” Pedro grinned when she entered and handed her a mug of coffee, “still in the same clothes as last night, no less. How are you feeling?”

“So much better,” She said, accepting the steaming mug. “You guys wouldn’t believe the dream I had last night, it felt so –”

“So real?” Ben guessed, looking up at her expectantly from his seat at the counter. “Do tell.”

She dropped the mug, and it shattered when it hit the floor. Coffee spilled everywhere, spreading across the floor in a dark stain.

“What happened?” Hero asked, immediately grabbing a roll of paper towels and mopping up the mess. Balthazar crouched beside her, picking up the ceramic shards.

“Maybe you should sit down,” Claudio suggested, pulling out the chair next to him. Beatrice lowered herself into it, hands shaking.

“I – I thought I saw something,” She said sheepishly.

“You should tell them,” Ben urged, “maybe then they’ll see me!”

“Yeah, or maybe they’ll think I’m completely _delusional_ ,” She hissed under her breath.

“Um,” Meg tilted her head, giving Bea a once over, “who are you talking to?”

Beatrice glanced from face to face – everyone was staring at her, expressions ranging from concerned to confused to mildly amused.

“I think I’m still drunk from last night,” She lied, “I, uh – I hit the wine bottle pretty hard, so. You know.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Hero pressed the back of her hand to Bea’s forehead. “You’re white as a ghost.”

“That’s crazy. A ghost?” Beatrice laughed nervously, ducking away from her cousin, “What would even make you say that? Ghosts aren’t even real. Now who’s talking nonsense? God, Hero.”

“Ah, yes, they’ll _never_ think you’re delusional if you keep acting like that,” Ben commented, “you’re doing a phenomenal job of seeming perfectly sane.”

“There’s no way you’re driving yourself to the airport,” Pedro decided, “Balth and I will bring you on our way to return the rental car.”

“I don’t think that’s nece –”

“No arguments,” Balthazar planted his arms on her shoulders and steered her towards the door, “you’re coming.”

-

Ben sat beside her for the whole car ride. Beatrice kept her eyes trained out the window, refusing to acknowledge him. He didn’t stray more than a few feet from her at the airport, chatting eagerly with her, undeterred by her diligent silence. She finally broke when she boarded the plane, reaching up to toss her bag in the overhead compartment, only to see Ben burst out of it.

“Did I scare you?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I am having a psychotic episode,” She muttered, taking her seat. He planted himself in the seat next to her. “It’s finally happened. Something finally snapped.”

“I keep telling you, this is the real deal,” Ben said, shaking his head.

“Why _me_ ,” She groaned, dropping her head into her hands, “what have I done to deserve this kind of torment? Why doesn’t Claudio have to deal with you haunting him? Or Pedro? Or your _parents_ , maybe?”

“If I could haunt them, I _would_. It would be a blast for me, truly,” He assured her. “I don’t know why it’s just you, Bea, but you’re the only person I can make contact with, and I don’t want to let that go. It makes this whole _navigating death_ thing easier.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m supposed to comfort _you_ right now? _You’re_ the one who went and died on us!”

“Ma’am?” A flight attendant, whose permanent smile couldn’t hide the troubled look in her eyes, leaned in, “Can I help you with anything?”

“I’m okay, thank you,” Beatrice sank down in her seat, face burning red. When the flight attendant had moved on, she shot a glare at Ben. “Excellent. Now _she_ thinks I’m completely nuts, too.”

“It’s not like you’re ever going to see her again,” He shrugged. “By the way, I must say, if you ever have the option to watch your own funeral, I highly suggest it. It does wonders for the ego. People say such lovely things.”

“ _I_ didn’t,” She huffed.

“Believe me, I took note of that, and I shall remember it for all eternity.” Ben leaned back in the seat, settling in. “Do you think there’ll be an in-flight movie?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case you missed it, you can read part one of the ghost/living person AU here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/2356100/chapters/5202833
> 
> part 3 coming soon!


	11. Ghost/Living Person AU (Part 3!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "death cannot stop true love. all it can do is delay it for awhile." - the princess bride

It took more than a week for Beatrice to accept that Ghost Ben wasn’t going anywhere. He followed her to work, to the grocery store, to lunch with her friends. When she showered, he sat on the countertop, chattering ceaselessly. When she brushed her teeth, he’d perch on the lip of the tub. Sometimes he’d go somewhere else, usually when Beatrice was particularly focused on something at work, or had “another boring meeting” to attend, but he was never gone for more than an hour. When she came home at the end of the day, he’d sit at the table and they’d chat while she made dinner, then she’d eat in front of the television while they watched Netflix together. When she went to bed at night, Ben would lie down beside her until she fell asleep. She didn’t know where he went after that; whether he roamed around her house or went somewhere else entirely. Either way, he was there when she woke up every morning.

“I’ve been thinking,” He said, when they were planted in front of the television one night, “you should call Hero.”

“I call Hero all the time,” Bea dismissed, eyes still glued to the screen, “now be quiet, I love this episode.”

“I meant that you should call Hero and tell her about me.”

Bea let out a short, sharp laugh.

“She’ll think I’m having a nervous breakdown,” She said, hitting pause and turning to Ben, “Which I _am_ , probably.”

“Maybe you are,” Ben agreed, “But you know Hero’s not going to call you crazy and be done with it. She’ll help you.”

“How is she supposed to help me?” Bea asked, doubtful, “It’s not like she’ll be able to cure this, or even _explain_ this, whatever this is.”

“She’ll listen to you, then,” Ben amended, “And that’ll make you feel better. It’ll be nice, to at least not have to keep it a secret from  _everyone_.”

“Yeah,” Beatrice conceded, biting her lip, “Yeah, that’s true. I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

-

**9:21am  
Text from Bea :)** **to Hero**

_Are you free at all today? Need a cousin consultation._

**9:27am  
Text from Hero! to Bea**

_Let’s do lunch! We can meet at that Italian place near my apartment that you love._

**9:28am  
Text from Bea :) ** **to Hero**

_Not really something I feel okay talking about in public. Too many ears._

**9:30am  
Text from Hero! to Bea**

_Oh my God_

_Are you pregnant?_

**9:31am  
Text from Bea :)** **to Hero**

_Jesus, Hero, no!_

_Are you kidding me? Who would the father even BE?_

**9:34am  
Text from Hero! to Bea**

_I don’t know! You usually don’t need to meet in private!_

_Just text me what you want from the restaurant and I’ll get it to go_

_I’ll be at your place by 12:30_

**9:35am  
Text from Bea :)** **to Hero**

_Best cousin ever. See you soon._

-

“You should probably take off for a bit,” Beatrice suggested, when the doorbell rang, “just while Hero’s here.”

“Sure,” He agreed easily, “I’ll hang out on the Doctor Who set for a while or something.”

“You can do that?” She asked, eyes widening.

“I can do whatever I want, I’m a ghost. What are they gonna do, throw me out?” He scoffed. “I’ll come back in a few hours. Give my best to Hero!”

“Sure, that’s how I’ll start,” Bea rolled her eyes, “Ben says hi, oh and by the way, I’ve been hanging out with his ghost every day since the funeral.”

The doorbell rang again.

“See you in a bit,” Ben waved before disappearing completely.

Bea opened the door and Hero breezed in with a bag from the restaurant in her arms, all smiles and sweetness. She immediately set it down on the table and started spreading out the contents.

“I just want you to know that when I picked this up, the man who gave it to me assumed I was having a party,” Hero informed her brightly, “I was too embarrassed to tell him it was just for the two of us.”

“He can judge all he wants, he’s just jealous of our superhuman ability to eat pasta.” Bea retrieved plates and forks from the kitchen and passed one of each off to Hero, joining her at the table. “Is that garlic bread? Hero, you _angel_.”

“Alright, dearest cousin of mine,” Hero scooped the chicken broccoli alfredo onto her plate, “what’s this problem that’s too personal for public discussion?”

“Before I tell you anything, just promise me you'll try to keep an open mind, okay? Think of the weirdest thing that has ever happened to you, and multiply it by like, a thousand. Minimum.” Bea thought for a moment, then added: “And please don’t have me institutionalized.”

“You’re being so dramatic,” Hero shook her head, laughing. “Consider my mind wide open. Now come on, whatever it is, it can’t be _that_ bad.”

Beatrice took a deep breath. She just had to spit it out – get it over with before she chickened out.

“I’mbeinghauntedbyBen’sghost.” It came out in a jumbled rush, tumbling out of her. Hero froze, her fork halfway to her mouth, and tilted her head.

“I’m sorry – you’re _what?_ ” She asked.

“Ever since the funeral, I’ve been – Ben’s been – _with me_ , I guess?” She faltered, wringing her hands.

“Oh, Beatrice,” Hero clucked her tongue sympathetically, taking Bea’s hand, “of course he’s with you. He’ll always be with you.”

“ _No_ ,” Bea shook her head vehemently, pulling away, “not like _that_ , I don’t mean all that spiritual stuff, I mean _literally_. I can see his ghost. I can _talk_ to his ghost. He’s been hanging around ever since the funeral, and neither of us know what’s going on, but it’s been happening, and I’m afraid you’ll think I’ve snapped or gone completely crazy or something, and maybe I have but I swear to you, it’s _real_ , Hero, and I don’t – I don’t know who else to talk to about this.”

“Is he –” Hero paused, and glanced around the room, dropping her voice to a whisper, “is he here right now?”

“No, he left so we could talk in private,” Bea replied, knowing as she said it that it only made her sound worse. “He comes and goes, sometimes, but usually he’s here because I’m the only one who can see him for some reason, so…” She looked to Hero, helpless. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

“Of course not,” Hero said gently, “But I _do_ think that you’re grieving. Everyone handles grief differently. Is it at all possible that this is just your way of dealing with it? There was never any real closure between the two of you, you know, and this all happened so suddenly – is it possible that this is just a sort of… reaction to regrets you might be having?”

Bea’s face crumpled.

“You don’t believe me.”

“I _do_ believe you, Beatrice, I just think it might not be exactly what you think it is,” Hero dragged her chair next to Bea’s and wrapped an arm around her. Bea dropped her head onto Hero’s shoulder.

“It’s not in my head,” Bea said, though the fight was gone from her voice, “I don’t know how to prove it to you, but it’s not all just in my head.”

Hero bit her lip, taking in her cousin – her cousin, who was usually solid as a rock, who barely ever let herself come undone, who prided herself on never needing help. Whether it was grief driven or not, Hero decided, whether it was a figment of her imagination or not, whatever was happening to Bea was real to her. And if it was real for Beatrice, then that was good enough for Hero.

“Okay,” she said simply, “I believe you.”

Bea pulled away, eyeing Hero skeptically.

“You do?” She asked. Hero nodded.

“I do.”

Hero’s acceptance left Bea feeling genuinely lighter. Ben was right, though it pained her to admit it – now that Hero knew, she felt better. The pair of them dug into the food, Beatrice telling her everything about her time with Ben’s ghost in great detail between bites.

“So… what does this mean?” Hero asked, when they’d polished off as much as they possibly could and relocated to the couch, sprawling out on either end so their legs overlapped one another’s, “I mean – are you _together_?”

“Um, I’ve been a little too preoccupied with the fact that he’s _dead_ to worry about whether or not we’re ‘together’,” Beatrice replied, punctuating the word with air quotes, “Besides, we can never be together. Not really. I’m alive. He’s dead. That’s not really an obstacle that you can overcome.”

“But you still love him,” Hero didn’t pose it as a question, and Beatrice didn’t try to deny it.

“Loving each other was never our problem,” She replied, “Of course I still loved him, that –”

“ _Love_ him,” Hero corrected, the corners of her mouth turning up, “as far as I know, you never got around to stopping.”

“That wasn’t our issue,” Beatrice plowed on, “We both had growing up to do. We had to find out who we were when we weren’t together. I didn’t know where Ben ended and I started, you know?”

“To be honest, I didn’t understand it then, and I don’t understand it now. I mean, the way you guys felt about each other… do you know how many people – myself included – would’ve killed for something like that?” Hero propped herself up on her elbow, holding Bea’s gaze. “People spend lifetimes searching for that kind of love, and you found that _in high school_. You were done! Search over, soulmate discovered! And you decided you didn’t want it.”

“First of all, _you’re_ my soulmate, Ben’s just the _unfortunate_ love of my life. And second of all, it wasn’t that I didn’t want it. I just… didn’t want it at that exact moment. I wanted to put a pin in it and come back to it later. It just – it got so intense, so fast, and it freaked me out. I wanted to do my own thing for a while.” She clucked her tongue, letting her gaze fall to the floor. “But now I’ll be doing my own thing forever, I guess.”

“Hey,” Hero took both of Bea’s hands in her own and laced their fingers together, “you’ll always have me. I _am_ your soulmate, after all.”

“Hullo love!” Ben appeared out of virtually nowhere, smack in the center of the room. “Oh, good, Hero’s still here! The talk went well, I assume?”

“Oh, my God, I _hate_ when you do that!” Beatrice cried, hand over her heart, “I told you, you’ve got to give me some warning!”

“Beatrice?” Hero hedged, glancing at the empty space that Bea seemed focused on, “is that – is that Ben you’re talking to?”

“No, it’s the _other_ ghost that’s been haunting me,” Bea rolled her eyes.

“Hi, Hero!” Ben waved. Bea rolled her eyes again.

“He says hi.”

“Um, hey, Ben,” She waved vaguely in his direction.

“Oh, hey, ask her if she remembers the time I called her at three in the morning when I was drunk!” Ben said eagerly, “it was after you and I broke up.”

“That happened?” Beatrice frowned, “She never told me.”

“Never told you what?” Hero asked, brow wrinkling with concern.

“ _Exactly,_ ” Ben nodded eagerly, “I swore her to secrecy. It’ll be more proof!”

Bea sighed and turned to Hero: “Ben wants to know if you remember the time he called you drunk at three in the morning after we broke up.”

“She told me she loved you but you could be a real idiot sometimes, and it was only a matter of time until you sorted yourself out and came running back to me,” Ben said. “She said I was the best thing to ever happen to you.”

“ _Excuse me_?” Beatrice turned to Hero, agape, “You told Ben that I was an idiot for leaving him and that I’d wind up running back to him? And I absolutely deny that _he_ was the best thing to ever happen to me!”

“To be fair, you were the best thing that’s ever happened to me, too,” Ben said, though he was largely ignored by Bea.

The color drained from Hero’s face, and she rose from the couch, looking at the empty space in a new light. She took a step forward and cautiously held her hand out. A shiver shot down her spine, but if she noticed, she didn’t react.

“Well, this is a little rude,” Ben glanced down at Hero’s arm, which cut directly through his chest, “It’s not like I’m sticking my extremities through _your_ body.”

“She can’t hear you, numbskull,” Bea reminded him, “and she can’t _see_ you, either, so she doesn’t know she’s got her arm through you.”

“Oh!” Hero pulled back immediately, cradling the offending arm against her chest, “I’m sorry. Does that hurt him?”

“He’s a ghost, Hero,” Beatrice quirked her brow, “nothing hurts him.”

“Except for words,” He added sagely, “words can still hurt me.”

“Well, you’re right, Beatrice,” Hero shook her head in disbelief, “this is easily one thousand times weirder than anything that has ever happened to me.”

“Of course I was right,” Beatrice sighed, crossing the room and reclaiming her seat on the couch, “I’m always right.”

-

Hero stayed for a few more hours, but she had dinner plans with her boyfriend (a guy named Sebastian that Bea had only met a handful of times, mostly in passing, but who – so far – had passed all her tests) that Beatrice insisted she keep, no matter how many times she offered to call and cancel. (“What are you going to do, tell him you can’t come because you’ve got to hang out here with your whacked out cousin and our dead friend? Come on, Hero, that’s just too weird for a new relationship.”) Once she left, Bea dressed in her comfiest pajamas, threw her hair up, and went to the kitchen to munch on a leftover hunk of garlic bread.

“You okay?” Ben asked, floating in after her.

“Yeah,” She sighed, “it’s just been a weird day.”

“Definitely weird,” Ben agreed, eyeing the tea kettle perched on the stove behind Bea. “Hey, will you make a cup of tea for me? I know I can’t drink it, but it’s nice to pretend.”

“Sure,” She said tiredly, filling the kettle and flicking on the back burner.

“I think Hero took it really well, all things considered,” He went on, “don’t you? I mean, I was pretty sure she would, but you never know. If you tried to tell Pedro, for instance, he definitely would’ve left. It would’ve been too weird for him. Balthazar would probably believe you, though. Or at least stuck around. What d’you think Meg would make of this whole thing? She’s kind of a wildcard.”

“I don’t know,” Bea shrugged, “she probably would’ve asked me what drugs I was taking, and then I’d tell her I’m not taking any, and she’d say ‘in that case, maybe you should start’.”

The kettle whistled, and Bea grabbed a mug and a bag of Early Grey. She added a spoonful of sugar and poured the boiling water in, stirring absent mindedly as she did.

“You remember how I take my tea,” Ben said, surprised.

“Well, yeah,” She replied, “I watched you make it for literal years. It’s basically muscle memory, at this point.” She set aside the water and grabbed the mug by the handle. “Look, my head hurts, so I’m going to lie down – do you want to come with, or should I leave this out here for you?”

“I’ll come with,” He said, drifting after her, “I’d offer to carry my own tea, but, you know, the whole ghost thing –”

“I know. Don’t worry about it.”

“I think, out of all the food and drink in the world, I’m the most bitter about not being able to have tea,” He declared, settling in next to Bea, who had already turned off the lights and crawled under the covers. “I’d be at peace with letting all the other things go, but tea? Come on, now!”

“Yup,” Bea mumbled, rolling away from him, “that’s definitely the worst thing about this whole situation.”

“I’m picking up on that sarcastic tone and choosing to ignore it, just so you know. I just don’t think it’s too much to ask for a good cup of tea! Even a _bad_ cup of tea, really, I’ll take what I can –” He was interrupted by a whimper. “Beatrice?” Her shoulders shook with silent sobs, her fist pressed to her mouth. Instinctively, he reached out to touch her, but his hand passed right through her, sending a shiver down her spine. “What’s the matter?”

“Is this going to be my life forever?” She asked, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand, “Beatrice and her Ghost Boyfriend?”

Ben quirked a brow.

“Boyfriend?”

“Ex-boyfriend, whatever,” She amended, sitting up, “Are we always going to be like this?”

“I don’t know,” He confessed, “I don’t think it’s something I get to control, really.”

“You could leave me alone, at least. You’re in control of that much.”

“Is that what you want?” He asked, wounded.

“No,” She whispered. She tried to reach for his hand, but passed through it, so they blended into one. “It’s just – lonelier, somehow. That you’re here, with me, all the time - but we can’t be together. And there’s nobody I can talk to about it.”

“You can talk to Hero some more about it,” He reminded her, “You know she’ll come back here if you ask her to.”

“There’s nobody who _understands_ , I mean.” She corrected. She hugged her arms around herself. “I’m sorry I told you to leave.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” She told him, “really. I missed you. Before you died, I mean. And after, obviously, but –”

“Bea,” Ben interrupted, smiling down at her, “I missed you too.”

“You should’ve called me,” She said, “instead of going to a stupid theme park and standing up on the ride like an idiot. I mean, jesus, Ben, were you _trying_ to kill yourself?”

“No!” He cried, indignant, “Of course not! I stood up on that same roller coaster all the time when I was little, I just didn’t account for how tall I’d – whatever, that’s not the point! The point is, I _did_ call you, but I always hung up because you said you wanted space. Remember? _You_ said that, Bea, not me. I figured you would call when you were ready.”

“Oh, so it’s _my_ fault?” She snapped, “You can’t pin this on me –”

“I’m not pinning it _all_ on you –”

“–especially when _you’re_ the one who ruined everything!” She accused, voice rising. She could feel the tears catching in her throat. “ _You’re_ the one who went and died on me!”

Ben froze, eyes wide. He looked like he’d died all over again.

“Bea, I…”

“It was always supposed to be you.” She drew her knees to her chest, deliberately looking away from him. “We went our separate ways for a while. That was something we had to do, for ourselves. But it was always – it was always supposed to come back to you and I, in the end. It was always going to be us.”

“It still can be,” He said, “it just might take a little longer, now.”

“Yeah, like a whole lifetime longer,” She let her chin rest on her knees, arms wound around her legs. “This is the worst trade-off ever. You’re back in my life, but I can’t do anything about it.”

“I’m sorry, Bea. It’s hard for me, too. To finally be with you again, but unable to, you know, be with you.” Ben moved as close to Bea as he could, causing goosebumps to rise on her skin. “I wish I could hold you.”

“This isn’t fair,” She said, “it won’t work, and it’s not fair. You died, you should be able to – to move on to whatever’s next. Not stuck with me as the only one you can talk to.”

“I _like_ being stuck with you,” He said, “I’d rather be stuck with you than anybody. I love you.”

“I love you, too, but that’s not the point,” She whimpered. “I’ll always love you, Ben, but this – whatever kind of weird limbo this is – I don’t know how we’re supposed to make it work.”

“You’re right.” He smiled sadly, “It’s not fair to you. You should be able to meet some other guy – a far less handsome and charming one, of course, but still. You should be able to fall in love again and have a zillion babies if you want them –”

“Be serious,” She chastised.

“I am being serious!” He protested, “I want you to fall in love again, I just want to ensure I’m better than them in all aspects. Just by a little.”

“Well, I don’t want to fall in love again,” Bea said, crossing her arms defiantly, “Falling in love with you has ruined me. And I _don’t_ mean that in a good way, so don’t go getting a big head about it.”

“Too late,” He grinned, “my ego is already swelling.”

“I would rather be haunted by your stupid self for the rest of my life than be with someone else,” She went on, “Even if this is _basically_ the worst and most horrifying thing that’s ever happened to me and I think I need to see a specialist.”

“Oooh, let’s find a psychic to help us!” He suggested eagerly, “You know, like a Medium!”

“Ha!” She snorted, “I don’t believe in psychics.”

“Nor do you believe in ghosts. And yet…” He gestured grandly to himself. “Hey, if you _do_ wind up having kids, will you name one after me?”

“And inflict a lifetime of dick jokes onto _another_ poor soul? No way,” She pulled a face, “And I don’t even know if I want kids. _Especially_ since I’m not going to have you to help raise them. I was already on the fence about it when you were still alive. I told you, it was always supposed to be you. You or no one. And it can’t be you, so by default –” Ben gave her a pained look.

“Bea, you have got to live your life. I mean it.”

“I’m going to! I have been!” She argued, throwing her hands up, “Why can’t I just go back to my original plan? What’s wrong with being a spinster and growing old with a billion cats? That’s what I was going to do before you came along and ruined it, and that’s what I’m going to do now that you’ve died and ruined my plans all over again.”

“If that’s what makes you the happiest, darling,” He said, smile returning.

“And if you’re lucky, I might name one of the cats after you,” She said, “they’re far less cruel when it comes to poor name choices.”

“I could live with that,” He considered, then thought over his word choice and let out a bellowing laugh, “ _Live_ with it! Get it? Ah, I crack myself up.”

“You’re ridiculous,” She said, biting her lip to keep from laughing. “Hey, serious question, though… do you believe in reincarnation?”

“To be honest, this whole ghost thing has totally thrown all of my thoughts and theories on the afterlife,” He admitted, “but I still think there’s got to be something more. Maybe I just haven’t cracked the code yet.”

“Well, I’ve always liked the idea of it,” said Bea, “And if – if it turns out that it _is_ real, and if you get to choose when it happens… will you wait for me, so we can try again? Have another shot at this?”

“Are you kidding? Of course I will.”

“Even if it means waiting until I die of old age in my sleep? That could be another six or seven decades, you know.”

“Beatrice.” She lifted her eyes to meet his. “I promise. I’ll wait for you, no matter how many decades, and we’ll get a do-over, and hopefully we won’t waste so much time pushing each other away. But even if we do – I will do this again and again, for a hundred lifetimes, until we get this right. Okay?”

Bea’s eyes were damp, but the corners of her lips were upturned slightly.

“Only a hundred?” She teased. He grinned.

“Well, after that I figure I might get tired of you and move on to Billie Piper or Emma Watson.”

“Please, like they’d ever be into you.” She re-settled under the blankets, shifting into a more comfortable position. Ben lay beside her, hovering just a centimeter or so above the bed. “I do love you, you know.”

“Of course I know,” He said, “I love you, too. Now get some sleep.”

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

“I’ve been here when you’ve woken up every morning since this started, haven’t I?” He reminded her.

“But will you tomorrow?”

“Yes, I will be here when you wake up tomorrow.”

“Good.” Satisfied, she rolled over. “Night, Dickface.”

“Goodnight, you crochety old emu.”

-

He wasn’t there when she woke up.

At first, she wasn’t concerned – he wasn't always in her bed in the mornings, sometimes he was out in the living room, sometimes he was waiting in her pantry to scare her - but after a quick scan of the apartment revealed it to be empty and calling his name proved to be fruitless, she panicked. So she called the only person she could.

“Hello, Ghost Whisperer,” Her cousin greeted brightly, “what’s up?”

“I woke up and he was gone,” Beatrice told her immediately, a sob catching in her throat.

“Who is? Ben is? Well, are you sure he’s not just… haunting someone else, for awhile?” She asked. “Maybe he’ll be back in a few hours.”

“No, he’s definitely not. We were talking last night and I’m not going to get into it but we had this super intense heart to heart and he promised he’d be here when I woke up, and he’s gone.” Bea pulled a pillow to her chest and tried to swallow her tears. “I think he’s _really_ gone, Hero. For good.”

Hero considered Bea’s words, silence settling over the phone.

“Maybe the two of you just had unfinished business,” She suggested, “and neither of you could get on with your lives until you finished it. Maybe you did that.”

Beatrice looked at the still full cup of Earl Grey tea on her bedside table, untouched and cold as ice. She ran her finger along the rim, and tried to ignore the tear that slipped down her cheek.

“Maybe you’re right,” She agreed half-heartedly, taking the mug into the kitchen and dumping it unceremoniously into the sink. “Listen, Hero, I just feel like absolute shit right now, so I’m going to call out of work and crawl back into bed for a while. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“I’m coming over the minute I get off of work,” Hero warned, “I’ll be there by four. Leave the door unlocked for me.”

“Okay,” Bea said, “I will.”

“Make a chocolate salad and get some good movies and your coziest blankets,” Hero advised, “We’ll make brownies when I get there.”

“You’re the best,” She said gratefully, “see you in a bit.”

“See you in a bit,” Hero echoed. She hung up, and the silence of the apartment came creeping in all around her. The only sound in the whole place was the wall clock in her kitchen, ticking away. It was deafening.

“Ben?” She called.

Nothing.

“Ben?”

The ticking of the clock was the only reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so concludes the ghost/living person AU!


	12. Ghost/Living Person AU Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the final installment to the ghost/living person au. don't say i never gave you a happy ending. ;)

Beatrice died peacefully in her bed at the ripe old age of eighty-six. There was no great fanfare, there was no white light – there was no seeing herself outside of herself, no pearly gates, no choir of angels. One minute she was sleeping, and the next minute there was just a wide open field and –

“Ben!” She ran to him, didn’t stop to think, just bolted right for him and threw her arms around him. He responded in kind, holding her tight and spinning her in a circle. The minute her feet touched the ground she shoved him away, jabbing her finger into his chest. “You left me. You said you would be there when I woke up, and you just –”

“I didn’t have a choice,” He said, gingerly pulling her hand away and lacing his fingers through hers instead, “believe me. I couldn’t control it. Please don’t cry, love. I’m sorry.” He cupped her cheek with his hand, wiping away her tears with his thumb.

“What _happened?_ ”

“You went to sleep, and the next thing I knew… I was here.” He paused, glancing around the field. “Well, not here _exactly_ – just... elsewhere.”

“I wasn’t ready.” She mumbled, leaning against his chest, eyes still red and puffy from crying. “I wasn’t ready for you to go.”

“I know, love. I wasn’t ready, either.” He wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. “But I never _actually_ left you, you know. I just couldn’t talk directly to you anymore, or follow you around. But I never stopped checking in on you. You look good, by the way.” She grimaced, shaking her head.

“I’m eighty-six.”

“Not here, you’re not.” He held Bea’s hand up in front of her face. She looked at it in wonder – the skin was completely smooth again, not a wrinkle in sight. She touched her hair, glancing at it out of the corner of her eye. No longer coarse and gray, it was soft and blonde. “You look just like you did when I last saw you. When I was alive, I mean.”

“This is too much,” She said, staring dazedly at her hands. She looked over to him, taking a moment to soak him in – Benedick, smiling right at her. Benedick, so full of hope and happiness. _Benedick_ , looking exactly as she’d last seen him. She had to turn away, after a moment – it hurt too much to look right at him. She’d spent more than half of her life missing him, and now he was here – here and hers, and it was so much better than she’d remembered.  

“Come on,” He bumped against her, “let’s take a walk.”

She let him take her hand, walking so close that their shoulders brushed together. They followed a path through the field, one that led them towards a forest.

“You never got married,” He noted.

“Never wanted to,” She shrugged. Ben winced, like it pained him. “I like the life I had. I wasn’t lonely, if that’s what you’re trying to say. I was an honorary aunt to a small army of children and I had plenty of friends. I went to thirty-two different countries. I had a full, happy life, Benedick. I _missed_ you, but… I wasn’t basing my life around you.”

“Good,” he smiled, and she knew he really meant it. “I wondered.”

“Once, when I was traveling – okay, this is going to sound stupid, but here goes. Once, when I was traveling, I saw a whole bunch of flamingos. One of them looked directly at me, and then all of a sudden they all flew past me at once.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “I always thought that maybe you had something to do with that.”

“Guilty as charged,” He said, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Really?”

“You were the ghost whisperer,” He grinned, “ _I_ was the flamingo whisperer.”

“I talked to you all the time,” She confessed.

“I know,” He said, “I heard every word. I always responded, you just… couldn’t hear me anymore.”

“So you had to resort to using flamingos, huh?”

“Exactly,” he laughed.

The trail ended as they reached the edge of the woods. Everything beyond the trees seemed to just… stop. Like the world had gone fuzzy around the edges.

“So,” he said, “are you ready to try again, love?”

She threw her arms around him, hugging him as tightly as she could, springing up on her tiptoes. He hugged her back, pressing his face against her hair, pulling her flush against him.

“I’d kind of like to stay like this for a few lifetimes,” she said. “I missed this. I missed _you_.”

“I missed you too, Bea. But you know we’re going to find each other again.” He kissed her cheek, and then her forehead. “I promise I’ll try not to be so oblivious this time around.”

“And I promise not to push you away,” She vowed. “Let’s try and find each other soon, okay?”

“You couldn’t keep me away if you tried. I am the unfortunate love of your life, after all.”

She laughed, and peeled herself away from him.

“Okay,” she said, reaching for his hand, “I’m ready.”

-

The basketball sailed into her yard and nearly hit Beatrice right in the head. She picked it up, ready to storm over to the new neighbor’s house and teach them a lesson when something on the basketball caught her attention. There was a message scrawled across it in black sharpie ink.

**HI BEA!**

**I’M BEN.**

“Hey,” Someone called. Bea turned sharply, the basketball balanced against her hip, already planning exactly what she was going to say to the jerk. But when she saw him, it was like someone had flicked a switch, and all of the anger drained out of her.

“Do I know you?” She asked, eyeing him curiously.

“I don’t think so,” He said, clearly delighted, “but my mum says we’re gonna be in the same class. Year seven, right?”

“Yeah,” Bea nodded, “how does your mum know that?”

“She ran into your parents at the supermarket,” He explained. When he smiled, it was like a full body experience – like he was happy from his head down to his toes. It was infectious. He gave a little hop, eyes shining. “So now that we’ve met… can I get my ball back?”

“No way,” Bea grinned, and bounced it a few times. “You have to play me for it.”

“Beatrice!” Her mother called from the door, “Come inside for dinner!”

“Probably for the best,” Ben said, “now you have some time to think of a concession speech, for when I totally slaughter you.”

“Oh, it’ll definitely be a slaughter,” Bea assured him, “I’m going to completely waste you, you’ll see.”

“Beatrice!” Her mother called again, “I mean it, young lady!”

“Coming, mum!” She turned back to Ben. “You’ll be here when I get back, right?”

“I’ll be right here,” He beamed, “I promise.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [when the sun came up, I was looking at you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3632568) by [wibbelkind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wibbelkind/pseuds/wibbelkind)




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